Rebecca Balfe is a former editor for Love What Matters. She resides in NYC, owning and rescuing adorable cats. She is an avid Lupus fighter and advocate.
Rebecca Balfe is a former editor for Love What Matters. She resides in NYC, owning and rescuing adorable cats. She is an avid Lupus fighter and advocate.
“’How could I have bone cancer at age 25?!’ I called my mom immediately after, sobbing in my car. She was shocked. I was finally able to get married after delaying my wedding, but I still had persistent pain. The surgeon said, ‘We cannot be sure if some cancer was left behind.’. It taught me to cherish every day I have on this earth. Things can change in a blink of an eye.”
“I was living with a very dangerous individual. With him gone, the nightmare became more real. I felt unsafe in the house. You can’t change locks on a shared ownership home. One day, I came home to find my bed had disappeared, along with all the mirrors. He would not stop until he had destroyed everything. The house was repossessed and I received a Christmas card from him. ‘Hope you and your sons are cold on the streets this Christmas. Here’s hoping you prosper.’”
“I said to him, ‘Pup, it’s ok if you can’t make it to the wedding.’ I’d think, ‘I’ll never have a photo of me and Pup in my wedding dress. I’ll never have the opportunity to eat my wedding dinner with him. He’ll never meet my children.’ I hit the lowest low I ever had. Before my husband and I walked down the aisle, I couldn’t help but feel like Pup was there. I said to my now husband, ‘He’s here. I can feel it.’ My husband grabbed my hand. ‘I know.’”
“My doctor told me, ‘Your weight is why you lost your baby.’ I was destroyed. My weight was the reason my marriage ended and it was also the reason I miscarried. My ex-husband even went as far to accuse me of making up the entire pregnancy. I lost my love, my child, and myself that year.”
“Suddenly I could not keep any food inside of me, from either end. I was losing weight fast. I became a homebody. I was accused of things like, ‘You just want pity. You’re lazy.’”
“I asked to be put on medication. My doctor said to me, ‘Are you sure it’s not just the pressure of Christmas?’ ‘NO!’ I wanted to scream, ‘This is why mothers don’t speak out. Because people belittle us. They tell us to cope.’ I was so angry. I accepted the prescription and left. I knew I needed to do something more than medication. I felt like the worst mom ever.”
“I was separating from my husband, all the while wondering whether I was going to live or die. I was sharing a room with a woman who’d been told, ‘You have an incurable blood disease. Death is certain.’ I recall shrinking beneath my blankets, not wanting to bring attention to myself on the other side of the thin layer of privacy hanging between us. She told them ‘I have no family to call,’ and when the doctors left, we sat there in silence. I knew I was destined to do more.”
“I spent my second pregnancy in unrelenting fear. I held my breath during every ultrasound. The first question I’d ask the technician was, ‘Is she breathing?’ I mourned a little bit when I found out we were having another girl, as if I were cheating on our first baby by bringing a different girl into the world. But the one thing I’d always find, even on my very worst days, was hope.”
“I said, ‘Break a leg!’ She got furious and started yelling at me, ‘Why do you want me to break a leg?? She takes things exactly the way they are, what you say is what she hears, and she processes the language just as it’s spoken. Katy has her own unique way of thinking, which I adore.”
“I was lying on a sun lounger (in the shade of course) and I suddenly got an overwhelming, unexplainable gut feeling I needed a mammogram. I didn’t have any lumps, but my gut was screaming it was the right thing to do. I had so many unanswered questions. ‘Am I dying? How long do I have left to live? Will I be here to see my children grow up?’ I was so vulnerable and weak and didn’t know whether I had the strength to climb the mountain which now seemed to be looming in front of me.”