09/15/2022
Did you ever look at a photo that evokes such strong emotion, it takes you back to that exact moment in time?
Thatās what this photo does for me. One single picture represents the compilation of so many profound moments - it tells a story.
A little boy smiling - it must be a happy story! On the surface, yes, but thereās a hidden chapter that remains āunspokenā, a darker version only a motherās eyes can see ā the story ābehindā the smile.
Itās a hard story to share, & a long one, but Iām going to anywayā¦.not for sympathy, but for awareness & understandingš.
š Itās hard because before this sweet little smirk appeared here, it had been literally weeks since we had seen Caleb smile. This was the first sign of happiness since cancer reared its ugly head. Caleb had spent his days & nights in this hospital bed, either sleeping restlessly or lying listlessly ā too sick to moveā¦.let alone play. Watching our once-vibrant, rambunctious little boy lose his āessenceā was crushingā¦.& terrifying.
š Itās hard because I can still see reminisce of the āemptinessā in his eyes, the one that existed in the early days of his diagnosis - when the evil monster had briefly stolen the sparkle in his eye, the joy in his soul, the fight in his spirit. This picture captured a small glimpse of that spark slowly returning again (thankfully)ā¦.but the blank stare still haunts me.
š itās hard because the cute little puppy patch on his cheek is holding a feeding tube in place. At this time, Caleb was too sick to think about eating, & too weak to even try. Plus the āgrapefruit-sizedā tumour taking over his abdomen made it nearly impossible to hold down any amount of solid food. When I look at this photo, I can see that distended tummy, big & bloated, so alarmingly disproportionate to the rest of his wee little body.
š itās hard because his thick, healthy hair is deceiving from this angle. The back reveals an ever-growing bald spot where his beautiful locks have fallen out (the exact spot where his head lay motionless on his pillow for countless days on end) - a cruel & visible reminder of the toxic chemo seeping through his body.
š itās hard because my eyes instantly scan the bruises on his tiny little arms, arms that have lost significant muscle mass from lack of movement & nutrition, arms that are more like pin cushions after countess pokes for blood work & IVs. I can clearly see the scratches, self-inflicted, from his own little fingers as he tried to tear out the needles time and time again.
š itās hard because I see a sweet, innoncent little boyā¦MY little boy, who cried over & over for his mommy, asking me to make it stopā¦.but I couldnāt!! No matter how much I hopedā¦& prayedā¦.& pleaded, I couldnāt!
š itās hard because 8 years later, I still have the pyjamas heās wearing here (āMommyās little monsterā)ā¦.but I donāt have HIM!!
Itās all so hard becauseā¦.
THIS is the face of childhood cancer, THIS is the story behind the smile šššš
ā¤ļø
Calebās proud Mommy,
Nicole
