Heather Bird Photography

Thank you to all of my friends and family, both those who know Teresa & Derek, and those who do not for the amazing outpouring of love and support today.   Day one is behind her.   I knew that we were surrounded by an incredible group of people… but today proved it over and over and over again.   Teresa and Derek are loved and cherished by so many people near and far.

If you would like to help us attempt to lesson one stress in their life, please consider donating by clicking the link below.

 

Donate.

I have to share a bit of research that my friend Nicole shared with me earlier this week from the book “Anti-cancer: A new way of life”

“Research confirms the importance of a network of friends.  In the Nurses’ Health Study, a large-scale study of nurses in the U.S., women with breast cancer who could name ten friends had a four times better chance of surviving their illness than women who could not.  The geographical proximity of these friendships was not significant; the protective effect seemed to stem from the simple fact of feeling connected.”

Each of us that have read the statement above have had the same thoughts, “well there you have it…. Done.  Battle fought.  Battle won.”    You can name ten friends of Teresa and Derek’s without batting an eye.   Actually you could probably name 100 without having to think twice.    The comments, prayers, donations and love that is being shared for these two confirms this.   Thank you.

Love,
Heather

I’ve struggled for the past two weeks to find the ability to write many posts that I would have otherwise written without batting an eye.   Three weeks ago I would have recapped our Easter weekend, starting with the amazing annual egg hunt hosted by my incredible and beautiful friend, Teresa.   I would have told you all about our spring break getaway to Park City where we took the kids to stay in a hotel and swim in the pool…. one that three weeks ago Teresa and I planned with such excitement.

But instead I have spent days, 14 of them so far, lost in a sea of emotions.   Instead, mammograms, cancer, chemo, hair loss, surgery and all kinds of horrible shit has plagued our Easter, our getaway, our every conversation and worse, our every thought.    Two weeks ago, my best friend received news that she would now begin a battle.    A long, hard, brutal battle.    The battle to beat an advanced breast cancer.

Teresa has been there from the pre-teen days of dance classes and sleepovers to the teenage years of getting driver’s licenses and first jobs.     After graduations and growing into adulthood we both moved away from Utah and away from each other.

Then one night years later we sat in my apartment in Calgary both overly giddy with the possibility that perhaps we had finally both found the “one.”   She traveled all the way to Canada to see me and we sat feet from each other on separate phone calls racking up hours worth of roaming charges talking to the men we loved.   We hung up and played psychics each convincing the other we would marry these two guys on the other end of our long distance relationships.

(can you tell I was happy… hello gums!)

And wouldn’t you know it,  not only was Teresa part of our wedding but she was there that New Years Eve night when Ken proposed.

We were there when she and Derek got married on the most perfect evening in San Francisco.    I could not have been more excited for two of my best friends to finally be together.

She was there when I became a mom.

We celebrated our 30th birthdays in amazing ways…. hers in Las Vegas

and mine with massages and mud baths in Temecula.

(she might be mad that I posted this picture!)

We were ecstatic when we both were pregnant at the same time.    I was happy that she went through all of the symptoms, water-breakage and c-section weeks before me.   She was an expert at it all by the time I wondered what the heck was going on.

(actually, it will be this one that will really piss her off…. but hey I was in the same boat)

She would call me during the newborn stages asking “was Ricky this way or that way?”   Then I would call her nine weeks later to remind me of everything I had already forgotten about the newborn stage.

We ran our first half marathon together in attempt to lose the baby weight.

And then we gained it back.  She, because she had a beautiful baby girl.  Me, because I eat too much chocolate.

She’s my Thursday night therapist.   After our weight watchers meeting each week, we head to the diviest little bar in town, sit back in the booth and replace all the calories that we just worked all week to avoid.    But we don’t care.   We get each other.   We solve our problems in that little booth each week.   We encourage each other to wear something other than yoga pants and then retract the encouragement when we agree that it’s okay if they’re the “Saturday night yoga pants.”    We leave striving to be better wives, moms, dieters, runners, etc.

We laugh at the same inappropriate situations.    Teresa’s giggle is so contagious that you can’t help but laugh too.

We have more fun than you could imagine.

And so…..

And so what do you do when the person who has been there through every significant event in your life faces something so big that you can’t even begin to help?    What happens when you can’t solve that problem in a bar booth over a weekly cocktail?

I’ve spent these last couple of weeks in a range of emotions.    At times I’m scared, sad, angry or helpless but through it all I always settle on being strong and hopeful.   If you know Teresa, you have no choice but to be strong.   When I talk to Teresa, no matter how the conversation turns and twists through emotions, it settles with strength.    You can hear it in her voice, you can see it in her eyes.

Later today,  Teresa will have her first round of chemotherapy and I have no doubt that my beautiful, amazingly brave and strong friend will kick this cancer’s ass.   Please keep her and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

Teresa, I love you more than I can possibly explain through words or pictures.
You got this!
Heather