Joe’s hair is falling out by the handful.
The doctor warned us, and I tried to get Joe to cut his hair short so it wouldn’t be so dramatic, but he wouldn’t. He told me, “I know it won’t fall out.”
But this week it started.
What do you say to your husband when you want to protect him from the shock? Clumps of hair filling the drain. There wasn’t much I could say, and honestly the “it will grow back” or “it’s only hair” comments aren’t much help either.
When you have hair like Joe it helps define you.
Seeing it fall out is accepting the reality we don’t want to make real. Looking sick means being sick, and none of that feels like an option.
But it’s happening and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to make it better for him.
There it is. Joe said it looked like a squirrel stuck in the drain.
He’s at the salon right now as I type. He finally went to have it evened out and cut short so it was seem so scary when it starts falling out. I called the stylist ahead of time to give her a warning and make sure he wouldn’t be embarrassed.
I am going to be the scariest mother lion. I see the great lengths I’ll go to protect my husband, so don’t even dare get near my cub. Poor little unborn baby has no idea what it’s in for with a mom like me.
Joe never lost his hair the first time we did chemotherapy because it was a different blend of chemicals. This one is stronger, and showing the signs of it’s path of destruction faster.
The truth is, it’s just hair and to me personally it’s no big deal. I just can’t handle him hurting or feeling sad. I feel the pain so deep in my heart and I just want to fix him. I just want him to be okay.
He said to me in a low moment not too long ago, “I just want to be normal, I just want to be over the moon for the baby and that’s it”.
So do I. It’s when I throw myself these little pity parties that things seem so dark. So I prefer to just not go there, which is why my blogs are sometimes few and far between. Sometimes, I just want to feel normal and register for baby things and doodle names.
But if we were “normal” would I cherish every day the way I do? Would I snap pictures of him sleeping so I never forget what he looks like? Would I stick my nose deep in his neck to take in every scent?
The truth is—- probably not.
It’s not how we live our life. We don’t hold on like it could all be gone tomorrow, though we should.
So for that, I’m thankful.
I’m thankful everything feels so full of love, even if it’s not so full of hair.
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