Cancer, Coping, and the Every-Day Maces

Here I am, living the Utah life, with raspberries to pick and trampolines to jump and so many wonderful people to be with. The beautiful fall vibes keep me out in random corners of my parents' yard most of the day- on the old wooden bench, talking on the phone with Michael. Laying on the grass, journaling in the sun. Under the apple trees with Caleb, teaching him how to climb.  Hyrum and Michael are hanging in there. A "fast MRI" revealed that sometime in the last 2-3 days, his tumor/brain started and stopped bleeding for a short period of time. The excess blood is hanging around, waiting to be absorbed again. It's another complication... But we think things are fine?? Hyrum isn't talking or eating much. NG tube is nourishing him for now. But hypothetically with more rest and time to recover from the tumor's inflammation, the blood won't do much more damage than it already has. We think? I was doing such a good job staying calm about Hyrum's treatment,

Hyrum received his first CAR-T cell infusion! He's still recovering from it (fever, fatigue, vomiting, tumor inflammation, and more) and he will be for a while. Michael is incredible- he's constantly monitoring Hyrum's developments, working with the medical team, sending updates to me and the family, and surviving on very little sleep. I'm in awe of him.  Contrary to our original plan, the kids and I are back in Utah. Wondering why? 3 days after arriving in California, Michael and I discussed my increased/prolonged/constant sadness over the past few weeks. Questioned if I might be depressed, need therapy, medication, a move back to UT, etc. Unlike April-July times, with extreme moments of pain and regular moments of peace/contentment/some normal happiness, I've just felt so gray recently. All the time.  The day after that conversation, we drove to our California church building for the first time. Soon after we arrived, I started cramping. I'd been bleeding ligh

Hyrum received his first CAR-T cell infusion! He's still recovering from it (fever, fatigue, vomiting, tumor inflammation, and more) and he will be for a while. Michael is incredible- he's constantly monitoring Hyrum's developments, working with the medical team, sending updates to me and the family, and surviving on very little sleep. I'm in awe of him.  Contrary to our original plan, the kids and I are back in Utah. Wondering why? 3 days after arriving in California, Michael and I discussed my increased/prolonged/constant sadness over the past few weeks. Questioned if I might be depressed, need therapy, medication, a move back to UT, etc. Unlike April-July times, with extreme moments of pain and regular moments of peace/contentment/some normal happiness, I've just felt so gray recently. All the time.  The day after that conversation, we drove to our California church building for the first time. Soon after we arrived, I started cramping. I'd been bleeding ligh

Here's a little more detail surrounding our next baby Mace. We're so happy to share news and chat about anything written here on the blog, but I do want to acknowledge that just because I'm happy to talk about this does not mean that pregnancy, fertility, or family planning is a topic that everyone wants to discuss. Some of my favorite people have mourned their unexpected fertility journey, and it's a topic for extra gentleness, careful conversations, and no assumptions. Having another child around this time was always in our plans. Cancer was not. Obviously, cancer has changed many of our plans, and we revisited this specific plan sometime in the month after Hyrum's diagnosis. "Is now still a good time to have another baby?" "How could I possibly handle this AND being pregnant?" "What if the baby comes before Hyrum goes? What if it comes after?"  About a year ago, I was settling into bed after a long day at home. In my mind, I started