August 21 is one of, if not the most, significant day of the year for me because it marks something truly remarkable. It’s the day I gave birth to my healthy, beautiful daughter Livvy after having been told I had stage 4 cancer. It’s a day that was filled with more emotions than can truly be expressed- anxious, nervous, scared, angry, sad, excited, hopeful, happy, joyful, love, relieved, determined. I believe I felt every emotion possible that day. 

And now here we are three years later, together, ready to celebrate her mermaid themed birthday. 

“Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a year?”, as the popular theme song to the musical Rent goes. And for the past three years I have made it my mission for my time to be measured in more than just chemo infusions, blood draws, biopsies and radiology scans. I am blessed the good days far outweigh the bad and my years have been measured in so many more moments of joy. From first steps and first words to bedtime stories, snuggles and bath time. From swimming lessons, dance recitals and graduations to vacations abound. From holidays and birthdays to trips to the library, movie dates and farmer’s market outings. I have been blessed to be able to live life in the moment and to its fullest. Three years marks 73 cancer treatments and 5 radiation sessions for me but my number of precious memories far exceeds it. 

As I head into this next year, a moment we didn’t know I would see, I am ecstatic to report that I am doing and feeling my very best. Early scans show radiation has worked and chemo is continuing to shrink and stabilize the remaining cancer. My scan in October will reveal the total effect of radiation and my doctor is hopeful as we explore new and exciting treatments this fall. 

And I would be amiss to not take a moment to thank some very important people who got me here- my family. From freshly squeezed juice, meals made, lunches packed, groceries shopped, dishwasher loads filled, laundry folded, pool and beach dates, rides to treatment, birthday parties planned, holidays hosted, PanCAN volunteer roles, games played, bathtimes, furniture assembled, unparalleled advice, the list goes on. And so so much love. I would not be able to heal and be the mother I am without my in-laws or my family. And to my husband, who has fought alongside me every step of the way, I wouldn’t be here without you, and I know we will go the distance. To many more August 21st’s to come.