Imagine waking up to discover that for the past three years, your personality had been slowly shrinking. It was happening so gradually that you didn’t even notice. But then, after waking up from surgery and getting the nausea and pain under control, those three years were suddenly reversed. It was a shock to the system, to say the least. It felt like riding the most intense roller coaster of emotions. There were incredible highs as different aspects of my personality returned, and it felt like my brain’s connection went from a slow 56k dial-up speed to high-speed fiber. But along with those highs came some lows, as I looked back at all that I had missed.

It wasn’t that my personality had changed; it was simply diminished. It was as if someone had turned down the volume on everything about me, making it feel smaller and muffled. The first time I truly realized the difference was the evening after surgery when my brother, Josh, came to visit me. We sat there and talked for hours, and I was able to effortlessly keep up with the conversation, remember stories, and switch topics. It all felt so natural again, which was a stark contrast to the constricted state I had been in. I don’t remember the specifics of what we talked about, but that wasn’t important. What mattered was that I could engage in a conversation at all.

It felt like my mind was racing a mile a minute, and it was an amazing feeling. I was back, and I hadn’t even realized I was gone. Two days later, I was allowed to go home, and I was filled with excitement. I couldn’t wait to see Colin, even though I had concerns about how he would react to my appearance with 37 staples in my head and a black eye. But none of that mattered to him. He was just happy to see me, and that first hug we shared was more comforting and euphoric than words could describe. In that moment, I realized it was my first time as a mom without a brain tumor hindering me. I knew I hadn’t been the kind of mom I wanted to be, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a great mom with the tumor. However, now that my emotions were no longer stunted, the overwhelming rush of love I felt could have knocked me off my feet.

Throughout Colin’s whole life, I had a brain tumor. I believe that my parenting was more affected by the tumor than anything else because I never had the opportunity to be a mom without it. Many of my actions were driven by muscle memory, things I didn’t need to think about because I had become accustomed to them (like my work). Colin’s well-being was still my number one priority but I showed my love in a different way. I wasn’t the super fun mom who was great at playing, I was the mom who made sure he was happy and healthy no matter what. He didn’t have screen time until after he was two. I made all his baby food from scratch because a report had just come out about heavy metals in commercial baby food. He never had any added sugar or too much salt, I had spreadsheets with food combinations that he did or didn’t like and to make sure that he was getting a good variety of the food groups. I carefully regulated his sugar and salt intake, maintaining spreadsheets of his food preferences and ensuring a balanced diet. I think I did a pretty damn good job of being a good mom with a full time, demanding job and a brain tumor the size of a golf ball.

I accomplished a great deal during those three years, despite the presence of a tumor. Looking back, I’m amazed at all I was able to achieve since it began affecting me in late 2019 and early 2020. In 2019, I received an award at work for being one of the top salespeople. In January, I got a promotion and started managing a team of remote salespeople while being three months pregnant. Then the pandemic hit, and all my plans for becoming a parent for the first time were thrown out the window. Work became incredibly stressful, and I heard rumors that someone was trying to take my job. With no real maternity leave in place, I felt compelled to use only the limited paid time off I had and return to work as soon as possible. Just as I was waiting to be discharged from the hospital with my newborn, I was copied on an email from the person attempting to steal my job, stating that he would be managing my team in my absence. Two weeks after giving birth, I went back to work on a part-time basis. Six weeks later, I returned full time and actively started searching for a new job, which led me to MPulse Software as the Director of Sales. It was a wonderful move, as I couldn’t have found a more supportive company.

I accomplished all of this with a brain tumor—how incredible is that? Looking back, I am immensely impressed and proud of myself. It feels strange to say that, like I’m boasting, but seriously, not many people could achieve all that I did without a brain tumor, let alone with one.

Now back to how funny I am. A couple of nights after coming home, when Colin was in bed, Sean and I sat on the couch with a rerun of Jimmy Fallon with Steve Martin and Martin Short as his guests in the background. It was interesting to see the difference since we had seen it before my surgery. We were laughing and joking around, and I made Sean laugh so hard that he fell off the couch and hit his head! We were crying from laughter, and I yelled, “Oh my god, I forgot how funny I am!” Which made Sean laugh even harder. It was a strange statement, but I was serious. I had lost my sense of humor due to the tumor and didn’t realize it. I was back, and I never had to live like that again. But I did yell at Sean that there is only one brain injury allowed in our house at a time!

The stark contrast between pre-surgery and immediately after made my head spin. I was on cloud 9, and nothing could bring me down! I even dialed into the manager’s meeting at work to say hello, let them know how well I was doing, and thank them for all the support I had received. Although I still had a lot of recovering to do, I was on the right track and couldn’t be happier.