Words that even soldiers would lay down their swords for (this one makes me cry like a little girl )

"From the ultrasound we've determined it's definitely not a cyst. It's a tumor and it's slightly larger than a quarter. We only see this abnormal cell formation in your left breast, however, you need to have your right breast checked on a regular basis. We recommend a biopsy removal."

One week later...

"My name is Dr. Corn. So let's take a look at what we're dealing with. Oh, there it is. It looks like there is some abnormal cell tissue surrounding the tumor. We're going to take all of that out, do the biopsy and take it from there."

Yesterday...

I arrive at Thompson Peak hospital in Scottsdale around 8:45AM. The lobby looks more like a 5 star hotel and I am immediately greeted at the front desk, "Please have a seat Mrs. Barton and someone will be by to check you in shortly." I sit and wait with Tyler and Brody. We play with his cars and a baseball. He's just happy to be with Mom and Dad. A grandmotherly type woman calls my name and brings me back to her desk where she proceeds to fill out some paperwork, ask me general health questions including whether or not I have a living will. I answer by saying, "No, my entire net worth is sitting right next to me." Brody smiles and says, "Mama" when I look at him.

We are then escorted to the third floor where we wait until they call me back to pre-op. I kiss Tyler and Brody and leave them in the waiting room. I change into my hospital garb, the usual tie gown, slipper socks and cap to cover my hair.

More blood tests. More questions. An IV.

Everyone has been so nice and I'm strangely calm. I listen to the steady beeping of my pulse through monitors and the rest of the room becomes silent.

I gently brush my fingers over my breast. There it is. The terrorist. How dare you attempt to attack me or my family. A single tear wells up in my eye, but I stay strong. I have to stay strong. I am woman after all, and a mother. And this mother is starting a revolution.

The anesthesiologist comes in to brief me on what's about to happen. I listen intently, but he can see that I'm uneasy. Although babies are not allowed in pre-op, he sneaks in Tyler and Brody and I can kiss them one more time before they wheel me away. I remember the blinding lights of the O.R. and wake up in recovery groggy and sore. The terrorist is gone, but the threat remains.

This Mother revolution and her army will not give up without a fight. So terrorist beware.

Full Moon over Beirut

Just above the silhouetted trees radiates the glow from the city lights. It is not as bright and warm as the rays from the moon permeating the humid fog that blankets the city. Breathing is a little difficult under these conditions, but an occasional coastal breeze brings relief and carries with it the last hint of summer. Under these conditions magic happens. A turtle pond is transformed into the moat of an exquisite illuminated castle whose grandeur is reflected in the dark water. Harmonic chords soar through the air and instantly transport this setting to another place and time. It's hard to believe these conditions can exist in a city polluted with traffic and commerce. But they do, nestled safely amid granite precipices and stalwart trees.



Central Park, an oasis for city dwellers to shake off the stress of survival and simply live. It's here that I first heard Beirut. It's here that I first ventured out for pleasure without my son (although I missed him every second). And, it's here that I first felt the pang at the thought that I might soon be leaving this all behind. Until then, I will allow the city, New York, and all of its magical splendors, to permanently etch itself into my memories. After all, this is my city. And although it's given me tough love at times, it's still my home.

On the Mend

So, I didn't mean to scare everyone with my last depressing blog...just had to get a few things off my chest. I'm doing much better now. My sister moved in with us and she'll be here until almost Thanksgiving. She's been a big help and I certainly feel better about leaving Brody with her than leaving him with a stranger. I know Tyler feels a bit outnumbered (Brody only counts as 1/4) but hopefully he can make it through two more weeks with a couple of girly girls.

Fall is starting to kick into high gear here and I am so excited. I love when the weather changes. It means I can pull out all my cute fall clothes, curl up with a blankie and eat comfort food. Yum. My sister and I are taking a little road trip to Hartford, CT next month and I'm hoping the leaves will still be full of color for the drive.

I know this is all fluff, but at least I'm writing. I need some inspiration. Maybe this block will finally be lifted next month when I get to see Tori. Yippee. Me and my fellow M.I.L.F. Haha. I can say that because I'm finally starting to feel good about myself again. I'm just a few pounds shy of my pre-pregnancy weight and my sister has convinced me that I can wear skinny jeans (although I'm still a little skeptical). Worth a try though, because they will look hot with the slouch boots that I'm determined to buy.

Step by step.



This was step one.

Time to Regenerate

As with every good thing, this too would fade. Isn't that what you say all the time. It's only a matter of time. It's inevitable. I should have known, or seen or reacted sooner, but sometimes it's difficult to see the things right in front of your face. Maybe it's easier to accept things when you're staring 17 lbs. of pure love in the face. But, how many times will I be expected to forgive and forget. I have very little left to give and what little I have is reserved for the one person who I hold completely helpless in my arms. I can't forgive. Not today. And even if I could, wouldn't I have to repeat the process again tomorrow. I need more time than that to heal.

I don't doubt your capacity to love. I've witnessed this first hand. I do, however, doubt your capacity to love me. I mean the kind of love you are willing to sacrifice everything for. The kind of love that will stop you dead in your tracks. The kind of love you would protect with every fiber of your being. That's how I love. Shouldn't I therefore expect the same.

I'm tired.

My heart, marblized with scar tissue, needs to rest now. Even as I write these words I find myself drifting with an overwhelming need to curl up and close my eyes.

I need to hold Brody. I need my baby.

f only my son could say all the things that I want to say to people.


"Please don't touch my hands, I put them in my mouth"

"Please don't ask my mom if she's working"

"Please don't ask my dad if he's babysitting"

"Please be nice to my parents, they don't get a lot of sleep"

"No, my hands aren't cold"

"I'm all boy"

"Yes, I'm circumcised"

"Please resist the urge to comment, my parents are doing a great job"

"Please don't stare at my lunch"

"Please don't ask my mom rude questions"

"I'm not staring at you, I'm pooping"

Chalk it up to sheer exhaustion, lack of interest, or the fact that all my free time is spent being a mommy. Whatever the case may be, I'm back. I know I should have been writing about how amazing each new little experience with Brody has been, but I haven't. There's really no excuse for it. That's not to say I haven't thought about it. I'm constantly running a list in my mind of all the wonderful little things that happen on a daily basis. I guess I've just been enjoying my time becoming a mommy.

And now the flood of experiences…

Twelve hours of labor, 2 ½ hours of pushing, monitors, IV's, ripping, stitches, blood, sweat, tears and I finally hear the sweet gurgling cry of my baby. His little gums quiver in the cold he has never before experienced. He is beautiful and perfect. I'm exhausted, but somehow manage to keep a clear head. Maybe it's just the effect of the epidural, but I'm feeling as though my entire body is engulfed in a soft cloud. Is this what peace feels like? I fall asleep. When I wake up, it wasn't all a dream, and my sweet baby boy is by my side staring at me through plexi glass. The urge to hold him close is overwhelming and I can't resist it. I don't think that will ever change. His little body is bundled tight and together we share each other's warmth. Same as before, only now I can look into his sparkling little eyes.

The weeks that follow are a blur of sleepless nights and days of feeding, changing and holding. But I cherish every moment. How could I have been so selfish for so long. This is what life is all about. This is what brings true happiness.

Brody will be three months old on Tuesday. I'm already missing the sweet moments when he was so little and helpless, but I'm absolutely in love with every new little step. He laughs and smiles and coos and everyday finds something new to do with his hands and feet.

My Baby.

My Love.

Does Humanity exist anymore?

I'm nine months and counting. It's now completely obvious that I'm pregnant, yet somehow people seems to pretend not to notice.

Case in point.

Yesterday there was quite a snow storm that hit the northeast. That didn't stop me. I still needed to get to work for my last two days. Off to the subway I went, waddling as best I can. I've stopped rushing, with the understanding that there are more important things in life to worry about, so slowly I made my way down the subway entrance. Sure enough a train was on it's way into the station and I thought, "Hey, if I make, I make it. If I don't, I'll take the next train." No sooner than the thought passed through my mind, my feet gave way underneath me and I found myself plummeting down the stairs, my hand slipping down the railing despite my best effort to hold on tight. There I was, in shock, and a world of pain. My tail bone, arms, legs and back were throbbing and the tears started to well up. As soon as I caught my breath, I began to whimper a cry for help, "can someone please help me?" I repeated myself, paraphrasing several times, as people entered and exited the train. For nearly 10 minutes I lay there crying and asking for help as people ignored and passed me by. Were they blind, confused, did they not see that I wasn't some crazy person? And what if I was? My cries would have been no less valid. Finally, after some hesitation a teenager asked if I needed help. He assisted me to my feet and up to the platform where I could call Tyler. Panic and pain were all I could feel. Did I hurt the baby. Was I going into labor. I felt pain everywhere. I stood there with my arms clasped around my belly. Just walk by and stare, that's all anyone could do.

What the hell is wrong with people.

I was lucky. Aside from a baseball size bruise on my butt and a few smaller on my arms and legs, I'm okay and so is the little one. He has plenty of padding. But still, a bit of a scare.



Humanity? I'm not so sure anymore.

Any Day now! (Margie)

The anticipation is almost too much to bear.

That's really all I can say about it at this point.

I'm ready!