BYRD on the daily 💙

 Day Eleven. Its strange to feel like I am stuck. I love seeing Ryan get stronger and he is! It feels a bit fake, and by that I mean seeing him do better but also knowing in the back of my mind that this isn't a "forever" kind of better. Living in that is the worst.  I tell myself to just look at today. So today looks good. Home health came out and checked on him and told me he is looking great, and going the right direction. (how much does she know? Is she looking at today too? sigh) Today he got up, took a shower and moved to sleep in a recliner. Today he wore glasses and mentioned maybe playing cards later. Today he teased me. I loved it. I loved that he thought to tease me, that he is fighting to come back and remember.  My kids are loving the time with family. Enjoying the feel of being wanted and cared for by others. It has been nice to see so many reach out to us and lift us out of the muck.  I cannot express enough how hard it is to hear the other comparisons...

 Its morning on day Ten. Yesterday I said I hated so much and that is true, but after I wrote it out, I started to find things that gave me hope. That reminded me to be grateful. So in an effort to become more positive I wanted to mention them today.  While I feel the weight still and the tug of tears and sorrow I also feel so much more. Its crazy that I can feel so many feelings at once, they feel like a contradiction to feel hope and sorrow, to feel happy and sad, grateful and angry, Tired and sleepless. I dont thing we spend much time processing life, we just live it. Sometimes I just do things, shelf the feelings and move on. Now I can feel the weight on the shelves, the tug towards depression, so to remind myself of the good and to share it here we go.  Each day I ask Ryan if he wants to get up, each day he says no. So we take care of everything from bed, I feed him there, clean him there, help him with bathroom needs there, give him his meds there, massage his legs ...

 Days two and three a bit of a blur, so I will put them together. Day two : We spent this day mostly crying. My face was beyond puffy, we just held eachother and cried, we spent some time with family, My sweet sister Alissa took my kids so they didnt have to feel the weight that we couldnt hide, we made plans for the next week so that I could be at the hospital. My best friends, Stephanie and Tracy stepped up to help, emotional support, food, and so much more. I really couldnt function, it was just fear and tears.  Ryan forced some really painful topics, what if he didnt make it? What is the future? Life after him? paperwork. We needed to have these talks, but it was so painful for us both. He talked about missing Bridger learn how to drive, date, marry, grow up. He talked about missing Addison and Brooklyn and Ava getting married and him not walking them down the isle, missing the father daughter dance. He talked about Boston and Ave not remembering him. He talked about my fu...

 Day Nine. I am grateful to have another day, but I cannot help feel that each new days means I have one day less. I hate that. I hate so much today, I hate the pain Ryan is in. I hate he cannot sleep. I hate how I dont get the full life with him. I hate that my kids are scared. I hate that this really isn't a dream. I hate that this is reality. I hate he cannot sleep well. I hate the doctors didn't give good enough pain meds to even help him. I hate he feels so frustrated. I hate I feel like if I smile or laugh its wrong. I hate that when people ask what they can do I just dont know what to say. I hate that "Thank you" just isn't enough. I hate the stories of others that beat it, when its not the same situation at all. I hate that I hate things.  When Ryan and I got married, I told him I wanted to go shopping together to find our first home decoration. So we did, we picked a large sign to hang in our room, we felt it depicted the kind of life we would have togeth...

 I have decided to write a little of each day, so this is day one. More happened but I don't have the strength right now to write it all down. I am broken.  As my tears stream down my face as I type this out, I know I cannot write it all. I will do my best for today. Tomorrow I will try to write more. Day One. We know he has a tumor. It is easy to get out we dont know. We have hope that its not that bad. He got an MRI a day ago and as we drove the 20 minutes home we joked. We made comments that it was probably nothing, we always laugh that when ever I have gone to the Dr for anything it always comes down to "lose weight' so we laugh. That is what we do. Always. We laugh. But before we could even pull onto our driveway the Dr. called. 'You need to see a neurosurgeon, it looks bad. I am sorry to tell you this'.  We feel scared, we both cry. Kids go to school and we just cry. We both try to go about our day, but how? How do we just function. Finally we get an appoin...

I am later than normal making this post. We were able to come home last night, a blessing and a bit of a curse. I am happy to be home, with our kids and with family. Ryan is miserable, which isn't surprising but hard to see. I cannot ease his pain. He is struggling to say what he wants in a why that I can fully understand. It breaks my heart every time. Though his agony he will say "I need to be aligned, I just cant" to me I think 'oh he need to readjust he isn't comfortable', but I am always wrong. Sometimes he will stay with me long enough to decipher what the problem is, and other times he shuts down, gets mad at me and says never mind, its ok. Today the alignment meant "I want socks and a drink". Its so strange to see my brilliant husband struggle with something he was a master at 'communication'. When he gets frustrated and shuts down I feel like a failure. I feel like I am not doing well enough. It hurts, It hurts so much I want to fall...

Day seven. How did this happen? I have spent so much time thinking about that. The Dr said Ryan's 2"x2.5" glioblastoma most likely grew within 1 to 2 months, I wanted to call him a liar, I just shook my head,no. This isn't happening, my Ryan is 37. Healthy. Active. Smart. Kind. Helpful. Funny. Sweet. Overly thoughtful. Father. Husband. Best friend. Strong. Silly. Gentle. And so much more. No this can't be happening. But it is. This nightmare is real. So how did this happen? No one knows. And hearing that sucks. There is no reason. No explanation I can give my 12 year old son. My love just got it. I have found out how only 3 out of 100,000 get this, with the median age being 65.. 65, what I would do to have him until then, ANYTHING. Statistics bring no peace, give no answers. His pain has increased, he keeps apologizing to me, "sorry babe, it's so bad so heavy, I'm sorry, it hurts so bad" all I can say is "I know love, you don't need to ...