It took almost a day before Luke was able to take the oxygen off. He coughed and breathed as if he had a small cold. We were led to believe that during the biopsy his throat was irritated by the tube that is placed there.

He threw up a couple of times the first two mornings after the biopsy. His blood pressure was high so he was started on a couple of blood pressure medicines.

He slept better the third night of our stay. The nurses kept coming in every hour to do something during the night. I slept, but not very well.

Wednesday, Luke seemed to perk up a little bit and he started to eat again. He hadn't nursed for a couple of days and I was making regular trips to the Mother's Room in the hospital to express milk.

One of the hardest things I had to come to terms with that week was what I would work out in my head as the best thing to do for my older two boys. School was starting up in a week and I didn't know how long I'd be stuck in the hospital. I didn't know when I'd have to come back [what if he got sick or something went wrong?]. I didn't think it would be fair on the boys to have them live life on the edge. Not knowing from day to day whether I'd be home or not or if they'd even be coming home or going to some other house.

It broke my heart, but I decided that the best thing for the boys that year would be for them to live with their father and go to school there. They could spend the weekends with me. This way they'd have more stability and security.

It hit me really hard. The concept of how only a few days earlier, I had a simple life and in a matter of a couple of hours everything had changed. I was losing my kids. I felt like things were out of control. My life was not my own anymore. The kids and I were supposed to be sitting at home watching Pokemon on TV eating junk food together, I wasn't supposed to be sitting alone on a bench at the hospital crying. This wasn't MY life.

It was decided that on Thursday, an MRI would be performed to see if they could stage the tumors on each kidney. His left one was stage 1. Weren't sure if the right one was stage 2 or stage 3.

Dr. Schulz gave us the results of the MRI after the procedure, which indicated that the right kidney was, indeed, stage 3. The length of the protocol would remain roughly the same. The only difference would be the introduction of another medication and a weeks worth of radiation right after surgery.

We were released later that Thursday afternoon, around dinnertime. I was looking forward to going home, but at the same time, I was also terrified. The nurses had given us lots of information and 'warned' us about some serious things that we had to keep our eyes open for. So many people had given so much information to us and I doubted that I'd be able to keep it all straight. I wished I understood even a quarter of what they were saying. They all spoke so fast and in terms that were completely alien to me. We were given binders and sheets and I just took a leap of faith that I understood what I needed to know and that the rest would come to me over time.

I was angry that the tumors had been inside him for so long and I didn't know. Not only did I play it over in my own mind but the health professionals as well as family and friends kept asking over and over "Didn't you notice anything?"

I hadn't. As far as I could tell, he had been fine. I worried that if I took Luke home I might miss something else really important. After all, I missed the cancer! I doubted my instincts and was frightened that I would not see some small sign of some complication that could put Luke's life in jeopardy. I was afraid that by going home, I could kill Luke.

It never left my mind that the hospital was only 20 minutes away and that we'd be there once a week, if not twice a week. That gave me the strength to go home, that and the fact they were discharging us anyway, regardless of my fears.