“If nothing ever changed, there’d be no butterflies”

You wouldn’t know it from the way my posts read, but, in general, I think nature has her ways best without me anthropormorphizing at length or inserting homosapien emotionalis into every single aspect. Nevertheless, meet Louise. Louise is the name of a young  woman I know well, at least by six degrees, and she is going through a rough patch back in Ann Arbor. She is the same age as my daughter, but she is on hiatus from the business of being a college student and worrying about homework assignments and who is writing in her Facebook. She has been taking fertility drugs and going through painful medical procedures in hopes of insuring future progeny. Her journal entries about this detail every complicated and painful stage of stimulating, harvesting, storing follicles, eggs, sperm- the biology of our dreams- but the broader sweep of her thinking is painted there too: maybe the young man she loves now, when she’s too young and her feelings are colored by circumstances to know for certain, will indeed be her lifetime partner, the chosen father of her children. She has the incredible gift of imagination and hope to think about wanting her own children despite a most difficult childhood and now, cancer. She envisions a time when she will be healthy and whole again. Within the month, she will begin chemotherapy while she waits for a bone marrow transplant.

Life is not always easy or fair for starter people but Louise has a rich and hopeful spirit, she writes eloquently about her current dilemma in her hospital CarePages and she has her eye on the prize. She’s working very hard to earn her wings. I held her in my thoughts while I watched this beautiful Louise take shape. L’chaim, Louise! Finally

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14 responses to ““If nothing ever changed, there’d be no butterflies”

  1. My thoughts and prayers are with this young woman. I cannot begin to imagine.

    Thanks for the finish to the beautiful story of the metamorphosis.

  2. A beautiful tribute to a young person who is facing more than most of us have had to face, though we’ve been on the planet a far longer time. I wish her the very best, the perfect milkweed of health on which to preserve the promise of her future.

  3. Are we twin Jewish princesses separated at birth?

  4. Wishing the very, very best for both Louises.

  5. Some people have to go through so much. I am hoping for the best for Louise. (my mother’s name and my middle name)

  6. I hope for the best for her as well.

    The butterfly and the photo are both exquisite (just like you, Vicki).

  7. You bring me to tears again. So young to face so much but with the courage to look to the future. Louise will be in my thoughts and prayers. A risky thing this bone marrow transplant…but often the only course to take. May she emerge as your butterfly, beautiful and whole.

    Thanks for giving me an idea about the bird… I had not seen one like this here before. A little larger than the finch and a bit plumper (shhhh don’t tell him I said so). This afternoon the feeder was empty again and three chickadee’s showed up. My goodness! What a racket they made, loud, persistent, the FEEDER IS FULL! Yes, my empty nest has to be lined by kitty fur.

    Someone came to look about the siding on the house and Dad didn’t latch the gate well. I went out an hour later and couldn’t find Max. I took off on foot and Dad went out in the car. Bless his heart, Max couldn’t find his way back if he had a map and with his eyesight not very good, I was frantic that he might get out on the busy street and get hit by a car. He is such the bumbling bumpkin in the back yard, no grace whatsoever. Dad found him with a couple of kids who were getting ready to call the vet number on his tag. He was excited about his adventure. I pulled a muscle in my leg running down the street. I think Dad had to take a nap. Such is life here with critters.

  8. Vicki, thanks for the blog visit. If you’re coming over in person, I’ll learn how to make the best julep ever!

    If you didn’t know about the pool, I guess you missed my post last summer about the duck that flew in for a swim…..LOL

  9. I salute brave Louise, and I thank God that my own starter people don’t have to contemplate the future in such stark terms right now.

  10. She is a brave girl, that Louise. I thank God that my own starter people don’t have to contemplate the future in such stark terms right now.

  11. She is a brave girl, that Louise. I thank God that my own starter people don’t have to contemplate the future in such stark terms right now.

  12. Damn that North Carolinian dial-up connection!

  13. We have very good friends in France, married. One had cancer. They were in their thirties and saved his sperm before chemotherapy. They fertilized and implanted one sperm/egg and had a beautiful daughter. Then not long after having baby #1, they got pregnant naturally. So now two beautiful daughters.

    I wish you a wonderful future, Louise. I know a number of cancer survivors who later had familes. xo

  14. My goodness. I wish Louise the best. She must be incredibly strong willed.

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