by HopeForTwo | May 1, 2014 | Chairwoman's Message
By: Patty Murray, Chairwoman and Co-founder of Hope for Two…The Pregnant with Cancer Network
My 18 year old recently asked me, “Would adults recognize joy if we didn’t ever experience any heartaches or sadness?” This question arose out of his reading a novel in school. I told him I had to think about it and asked him to think as well. When we sat down for a snack a few minutes later, as we do when he isn’t in afterschool activities, we came to our realization that you wouldn’t know joy/happiness unless you have experienced the exact opposite.
I experienced the sadness before the joy as well as how to become a happiness antennae after I was diagnosed with cancer while pregnant 18 years ago (with my son Patrick above). First, it is obvious that I was shocked, saddened, and devastated by the breast cancer diagnosis. Secondly, we were going through a babysitter drought when I was first diagnosed. The first several weeks were filled up with countless trips to the surgeon, oncologist, hospital, OB’s office visit and sonograms. My husband and I treated them like mini dates, grabbing a croissant and coffee on the way, and holding hands, talking, and laughing (yes, laughing) in the oncologist’s office. People would look at us and wonder what we were laughing at. Today I cannot recall the exact things that we found silly, but one memory in particular sticks out; the scene in the waiting room. We were by far the youngest in there by about 20-30 years. And I was the only one with the pregnant belly. It had a tragic, surreal, which then took on a comical feel to us out of the sheer bizarreness of the situation. It just made us laugh and that was good. We felt so lucky to have this special time and to find humor and happiness together.
Other times we would bring our 2 ½ year old son and our 5 year old daughter when she wasn’t in her morning nursery school. This brought me such happiness and joy and still does to this day. Back in 1997 when we first began this organization, I counselled my first few pregnant with cancer patients. They would ask me if chemo hurt. I would pause and then tell them that I don’t truly remember because I could only recall happy thoughts about my infusion visits. During the first 6 months of chemo, the veins in my arms looked like dark railroad tracks. They collapsed so many times they decided to put a port in my arm for the next 3 ½ months of another type of chemotherapy. However, I only remember infusion visits to be filled with non-stop conversation with my wonderful nurse and my caring and loving husband. When the kids were with us my son was busy on the floor arranging his Matchbox cars in rows, and my daughter was busily coloring in her coloring book, then proudly handing her creations out to the nurse and doctor. The doctor was so kind to the children. He always insisted on bringing them some hard candy as a treat. I would always have to decline for my 2 ½ year old, reminding my brilliant doctor that it was a choking hazard. We’d all chuckle. It was clear that they were not accustomed to small children around.
Looking back, it must have hurt but I have only a shadow of memory of this. However, I believe that one of two things or a combination of the two occurred. Either I experienced self-imposed amnesia to protect myself from the painful memory. Or, I have chosen to remember the happy times with my nurse and husband and the times with my adorable children who were doing normal things during this bizarre chapter in my life. When asked about this time, these happy memories and feelings surface and the unpleasant ones fade in the distance.
My son asked me one final question during our afternoon snack, “Do you think that you have to work at obtaining happiness and joy?” I thought, and as a lover of history I remember the words of our enlightened writers of our American Constitution: “That all men have the right to the pursuit of happiness.” They did not say we have the right to happiness, but rather the right to pursue, go after, happiness. Having this right is a gift. Do we put up antennae to receive such signals of joy and then embrace those feelings, or do we put up barriers which repel such happiness? Since I am going this way through life but once, I choose the first.
Until next time, I’m wishing that we all find small joys in our everyday affairs and great happiness at just being here to experience life, love, and laughter. ✿
by HopeForTwo | Nov 1, 2013 | Chairwoman's Message
By: Patty Murray, Chairwoman and Co-founder of Hope for Two…The Pregnant with Cancer Network
Patty Murray
After 53 years of living, I have come to understand that we all wear badges or tags, with some being more invisible and silent than others. A few years prior to my own cancer diagnosis, I met a neighborhood woman. Almost immediately, she would sprinkle every conversation with words such as “my illness” and “if people only knew what I have had to go through” without giving any particulars. Being polite, I initially restrained from asking her the details that so profoundly changed her life. Yet a year later my curiosity nudged me into asking her if she felt comfortable enough to share her story.
Her face relaxed as if relieved to unload her burden. She explained that she was treated for cancer months after her first child was born. After recurrence and more treatments, it threw her body into chemically induced menopause in her thirties, rendering her unable to bear any more children. She felt robbed. While listening to her, I interpreted her words and emotions to mean that she wished that she could wear a badge. It would serve as a name tag which would read: Cancer Survivor, Early Menopause, Robbed of Having More Children. I believed that she wanted people to know and have compassion for what she has been through and how much she has suffered, despite looking perfectly “normal” on the outside. Even though I was not yet a 30 year old cancer patient, much less going into early menopause as well, I had some compassion for her plight.
Since then I have spent hours thinking about her statements and wishes, especially after my own diagnosis and treatment, founding of this organization, and speaking with countless other people about their trying life experiences. All of us wear badges during our lives, most of them being silent and invisible. Of course, some are visible: the bald cancer patient, the one with the cast on his leg or the elderly woman shuffling along the street. However, most of us are currently undergoing or have just endured an invisible setback, ordeal, or illness. If the tags were visible some might read “Parent with Dementia”, “Health Issue”, “Child with Learning Disabilities, “Child Rearing Issue”, “Mental Health Issue”, “Family Problems” or “Financial Difficulties”. The list goes on. Sometimes, you would need a magnifying lens to read all of what someone is dealing with at one time for it all to fit on one tag. Other times, nothing is on the tag. And, rarely, you have one ordeal after the other to deal with. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I immaturely looked back on my life and remembered all of the trials and tribulations in my life. Then I asked, “Isn’t this enough? Haven’t I met my quota?” But I now know that every single one of us have trials/tags and it doesn’t stop. It is part of our human condition.
As soon as I came to the full realization of this life lesson, I became more peaceful when reacting to my own problems and my interactions with most people. Some individuals wear all of their problems on their sleeve, yet others silently deal with them. So when I encounter people, I understand that most are dealing with something and treat them that more kindly. Recently I was listening to an interview of Curtis Martin, who was a former running back in the NFL and just inducted into the Hall of Fame. When asked about his tough childhood, he said not to use our hardships as excuses to fail but to rather use them to create something greater. His most memorable quote from that interview is powerful: “Life is built on what you overcome.” Instead of viewing our trials/tags as stumbling blocks, we should instead overcome them and view them as the building blocks of our lives. They in turn create a strong foundation.
Until next time, I wish all of us the peace that comes from having compassion for ourselves and for our fellow visible and invisible tag wearers. ✿
by HopeForTwo | May 1, 2013 | Chairwoman's Message
By: Patty Murray, Chairwoman and Co-founder of Hope for Two…The Pregnant with Cancer Network
Patty Murray
Everywhere I go I hear common refrains: “I’m so tired; I have too much to do; I don’t have enough time to pack it all in and still have quality family time, ‘me time’, or just plain old ‘down time’.” I’ve given these sentiments much thought lately since I believe they are growing louder and more frequent. A few years back, I wrote an article entitled “Lesson Learned”, which focused on not having to do “it all” (with “all” being the activities that fill up our lives). But recently, I took a step back and wondered, maybe, just maybe, we simply just have too much to do. Instead of resigning ourselves to the fact that we cannot do it all, we should be proactive and pare down our commitments. Perhaps then we can feel accomplished when we complete our shorter task list and leave time for what is truly significant.
However, just contemplating the paring process makes some break out in a cold sweat. While wanting less on their plate and not to be on the vicious treadmill, they feel that nothing can be cut out. But I will revert to a garden analogy again where cutting back reaps great rewards. This spring, I will step outside and do what will seem counterintuitive- to prune back and tear out so as to have healthier, more abundant plants and a more organized garden.
With pruning shears and spade in hand, I will reluctantly begin my job of pruning back my many rose bushes and dividing, then sharing, my perennials. I am reticent because they were such a part of last year’s beauty. What’s left looks pretty scary, barren, and downright ugly. However, as in past years, after such a cleaning out, a symphony of colors will emerge from my Fairy Rose Bushes, Irises, Coral Bells, and Salvia. The hard work of pruning and discarding will pay off this summer with less time gardening and more time to enjoy its beauty.
I’ve found this lesson to hold true in our lives as well. Over the years, I have heard so many stories that highlight this message. One of them came from a long forgotten grammar school friend who contacted me after she was frozen in fear from her recent Breast Cancer diagnosis. She literally didn’t take a shower or go out of her home for days. Besides being fearful, she was quite upset over lost time. While sobbing, she told me how, in the past, she was so particular with having her daughters clothing match and having perfectly ironed bows in their hair. It had been so important that she took them to the requisite number of after school activities so as to make them “well-rounded”, all the while trying to fit in working, cleaning the house, seeing friends and family, etc. Looking back, some of it was nonsense, unnecessary. I told her not to look in the rear mirror but to forge ahead and be grateful for learning the aforementioned valuable insight.
This awareness was echoed by my friend’s elderly mom when all five (5) of her children were given the gift to share her last moments on earth. My friend grew up when the chrome kitchen table was all the rage. During her childhood, at the bequest of their mom, each child took their turn on Saturdays taking a toothbrush to the chrome table to bring back its original luster. Through tears, her mom recalled this practice and asked them all to promise her that they would let some dirt and dust bunnies accumulate, to spend less time on the “stuff” of life, and more with people and what is really meaningful. If she had a chance, she would have done things differently. Perhaps she needed a pruning shears earlier on. I have found that once you eliminate the excess commitments, “things”, and activities, then the people, relationships, and significant activities emerge and flourish. Then maybe, just maybe, we can all feel less stressed, tired, and will have enough time, on most days, to do what is important to each one of us. Until next time, I wish you peace, courage to cut, and time to enjoy LIFE! ✿
by HopeForTwo | Nov 1, 2012 | Chairwoman's Message
By: Patty Murray, Chairwoman and Co-founder of Hope for Two…The Pregnant with Cancer Network
Patty Murray
My Dad, after asking how I was faring 8 months into cancer treatments and attentively listening to my replies, likened my cancer journey to a giant rollercoaster ride. The analogy resonated with me at the time and was the reality of my first five years after treatment while I was going for one test or to an appointment practically every single month. Gradually the sharp twists and turns were less frequent and life settled in. However, the rollercoaster analogy resurfaced this spring right after resolving a trying family situation (as we all have from time to time). My 16 year son, Patrick, whom I was pregnant with while diagnosed with breast cancer, took me by the shoulders and consoled me with these words in such a convicted manner, “Life is like a rollercoaster, Mom. We have so many ups in this family, there’s bound to be downs!” My Dad, Richard, and my son, Patrick Richard, not only share a common name but great wisdom.
Looking back, our Hope for Two…The Pregnant with Cancer Network journey has likewise been a giant rollercoaster ride. We turn 15 years old this fall- Happy Birthday to us! Right at the beginning, I was told by a major cancer center that they would not refer any patients to us until we hit our two year mark. They explained that the mortality rate for small non-profits is two years. Well, we blew past that milestone many years ago but had our learning curves and twists along the way. If I knew then while growing the organization what I know now I would have relaxed a bit more and took the seeming downs in stride; knowing that the high times were just around the corner. The knowledge gained from the dips became the momentum necessary to climb the next hill.
The high points in our history, which continue into our present, have been the people we have been blessed with- from the several hardworking and dedicated Board of Directors, Advisory Board members, employees, volunteers, and generous donors. With their help we have been able to keep up with the growing social media presence, recently update our website, and to create a new, faster, and more efficient database. As we celebrate our 15 years we are riding high. We will continue our trek across the globe aiding more women diagnosed with cancer while pregnant by giving them the most up to date information, hope, and support. Thank you to so many of you for helping make this a reality!
Sometimes the ride gets rough. Whether it is the cancer, organization, business, or just plain personal life journey, at times it feels like you are on a variation of Space Mountain- the Walt Disney World mega rollercoaster that is set entirely in darkness and has sharp twists, turns, drops; yet has several thrilling moments along the way. While holding on for dear life you may whisper to yourself, “I want to get off this ______ ride!” But that’s not an option. Likewise, either you are a passenger of life or not. So, I believe, and I have to take my own advice from time to time, that the best way to approach the ride(s) is to relax, breathe, and know that all of our journeys are littered with peaks and valleys- trusting that there will be more highs than lows. It is part of our human condition and it is the wonderful people that we surround ourselves with that can make all the difference. Hopefully, that is what Hope for Two does for the women we inform, give hope and support. Until next time, here’s wishing that you can treasure the mini joys and great thrills while riding your sometimes treacherous giant rollercoaster ride. ✿
by HopeForTwo | Nov 1, 2011 | Chairwoman's Message
By: Patty Murray, Chairwoman and Co-founder of Hope for Two…The Pregnant with Cancer Network
Patty Murray
Since I was a scout for eight years, the Girl Scout motto, “Be Prepared,” is woven into the fabric of my life. I know I’m not alone. Preparing for the next event, presentation, school year, etc. is what we all do every season, every day. However, sometimes things occur that deviate from “the plan.” Those deviations would throw me off and I would desperately try to get back on track. But I learned I had to adapt. Truly, I should have learned that lesson 16 years ago when I was happily moving along with my third pregnancy and was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I still wanted to do all of my usual tasks. My husband would reel me in and say that the world won’t fall apart and the kids won’t get sick if some things don’t get done. They could even eat boxed macaroni and cheese for dinner and survive – imagine that! I experienced the lesson, lived the lesson, but never learned it until just recently. I guess I’m a slow learner.
The “Ah ha” moment came at the end of spring 2011. March 21st is the first day of spring, but in Buffalo, New York it didn’t feel it until the end of April. We experienced “winter” for 6 months (the first flakes arrived October 15th and departed April 27th). As an avid gardener, I so look forward to the advent of spring, turning over the soil, pruning perennials, adding compost and manure to the beds, weeding, and leveling the soil. But we couldn’t even start before the end of April. My parents just came home from vacationing in Florida on April 30th and raved about the bulbs in bloom, the blue sky, and brilliant sunshine. But I could not see it. All I could think about was what needed to be done before planting. I had 30 short days to prepare while still running my house, this organization, and everything else in between – the daily treks to pick up my children from after school activities, weekly track meets, end of the year Music concerts, being present for the events surrounding a graduating High School son (prom, prom party at our house, baccalaureate mass, graduation ceremony, etc). And just for kicks, add in mother’s day, your husband’s birthday, and a family member having “issues.” It seemed all so overwhelming, almost suffocating.
What happened was as follows. My mom and I made our way to our favorite nursery and picked out many flats of flowers. Then, in between the never ending rain, my husband and I squeezed out time and rushed through the whole process. Many weeds were overlooked; ground was overturned but not perfectly leveled. We had everything planted before June 1st. The result, a “very beautiful garden this summer” (so say the neighbors). The downside – several of my sunflowers drown due to too much rain and inadequate leveling, more weeds, and not enough color blending; but only I noticed.
Lesson finally learned. “It all” doesn’t have to be done. Do what you can and let go of the rest. Maybe some of it wasn’t necessary after all. Sometimes, focusing on the preparation actually gets in the way of living. I learned to flow with all the other players and events instead of viewing them as obstacles “blocking” my plan. They are part of life. Actually, the “issues”, the tears, the laughter, birthday and other celebrations ended up being the exclamation points during that month of May 2011. Now I leave room in the plans for unexpected elements, knowing that they will show up and embrace them when they do. In the end it isn’t about how much we’ve accomplished, but how many people we’ve touched along the way. Until next time, I wish you and your family peace. ✿
