This time of year

Ugh...This time of year.  February and March.
There is no doubt that near the end of February every year, I reflect back on that one day.  That afternoon.  Sitting in a breast care doctor's office.  Wondering why everyone kept apologizing for my wait.  I had hardly been there 10 minutes.  They were acting...suspicious.
But still...I wasn't ready for what I heard in that office, sitting alone.  When I heard the word "cancer", my ears turned off and my mind started reeling.  I dont know much more of what the doctor told me after that.  I somehow, in the midst of his announcement, asked if I could call my husband.  My nurse ushered me into her office, and I struggled to get ahold of Dan on his cell phone, so then proceeded to call all the supervisors numbers that I knew in his office.  When I finally got him on the phone, I couldn't even tell him the word, "cancer".  I just asked if he would please come to the breast care doctors office.
And then he came.
I know I had been crying.  I couldn't help but think that I might die.  I had no idea how long I had had this lump.  Had it traveled to other parts of me?  Where else was in it in my body?  How long did I have??  My kids were young.  One and two years old.  Would I see them grow up? None of these words came out my mouth.
I was numb.  Shock.  I guess thats what you would call it.

Dan walked into the nurses office, looked at me and asked, "What is wrong, honey?"  I then started to break down, and knew words weren't going to come.  I choked out to the nurse, "Please, you tell him."
She proceeded to tell him what the lab results had confirmed.  Explained to him our next steps.  Made an appointment for an MRI that week, a surgery within three weeks.

Thats where we were on FEBRUARY 28th 2011.

Four years ago.

And March 24th, I was being wheeled away from my family in a hospital in Des Moines, about to enter into a 7 hour surgery to have a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery.
March 27th 2011, I was home and three days later I turned 28.  With drainage tubes, scars and pain killers.  But also with a beautiful one and two year old.  Whom I couldn't pick up.  Whom I couldn't hold.  Whom I couldn't rock to sleep or lift into bed.  With a husband who had to look at this new body, and realize this was the future.  This was forever the woman whom he would love, even minus parts of her that he, also, had loved.
It was a sad time.  Not that I always felt sad.  I really didnt at the time.  The pain killers and numbness really were in control of my emotions.

Fast forward.

Two years later, April 11, in a hospital in Mason City, was born a beautiful black haired, brown eyed baby girl... while I sat at a kindergarten informational meeting at SouthEast elementary.
I knew my life was changing on that day- my oldest was going to become a kindergartener.  Thats serious stuff, guys.
But I didnt know that my youngest daughter was being born.
Four days later, she was carried into our home, so tiny in her carseat, and my heart stopped.
On February 28th, of the next year, we were sitting around the table with an adoption worker, finalizing the details to adopt our little G.  And then the worker slipped out some information, immediately knowing that he had made a mistake.  G's mom was pregnant again.

February 28th, 2014, we first heard the news of our coming son.  {Three years after receiving other life altering news. }

This year on April 1st, we will celebrate one year of G being an official Aguilera. One year ago, we finally got to share our love for this little girl with the world.
Two days after her first Gotcha Day, we will be back in the courtroom.  This time, adopting her little brother.
How GOOD is this time of year?!
Yep.  Four years ago, this time of year was full of pain, fear and some suffering.

BUT...
Now and forever more, it is a time of celebration.

AMEN to that!