There is good days and then theres bad.

I am on the clock 24/7, I take care of my 2 year old, and my 3 month old with Cancer.

Today was another bad day. I think once I make it 3 days on little to no sleep the 4th day is always the worst, it's the day when I reach my breaking point, where there are tears streaming down my eyes and I just don't want to get up. I want to give up, commit myself to an institution and just say "I'm DONE".

Because I knew going in having 2 kids so close in age would be rough, exhausting, and draining. But lets just through a hole pile of shit (aka Cancer) at our family to make it even tougher and see how long one can stay mentally sane.

We went to clinic yesterday and Mallory's ANC was still low, so they gave her a neupogen injection to raise her counts. Which is great, fine, dandy but then not give her ANYTHING to make her feel better. I love having a miserable child that I can't help. It makes one feel AMAZING that they cannot do anything to help there own baby. All I can do is hold her, cry with her, and pray that the next few months will be over. That I can just wake up from this stupid nightmare called Cancer. They sit there and tell me that there is nothing they can do for her because she is so small, because she should be fine. But really? How many kids go through chemo feeling great? How many adults? Just because my child cannot speak does not mean she does not feel pain, that she doesn't feel sick, that she's doing just fine. Because you trying living with Mallory, she's a miserable child since this all started. It's like she knows, and I know she loves us, she knows we're doing this to save her.

I wish this year away more than anything.

The nurses keep telling me I'm doing a great job, that I can do it, that I can make it. But I'm not so sure. I'm slowly withering to pieces, I'm breaking down, I'm falling apart.