I think my hair is starting to bail on me. Over the last couple of months, when people in my life found out that I was going to have to receive chemotherapy, a lot of them focused on my hair. I got a lot of “You might not lose your hair. You know not everyone does. My sister’s neighbor’s babysitter’s mom didn’t.” You know, lots of hair loss worry. At the time, I couldn’t really understand it. I was straight up scared that I was dying, and at the very least, I was worried about the toll chemo was going to have on my entire body. Hair loss seemed so trivial.
Well, I’m not as cool with it as I thought. Last night, I was about to read a bedtime book to Penny, and I took my ponytail holder out so I could lay with her. About 25 hairs came with it. Yikes. I went to throw them away and gave my hair another pass. More. And more. Sad times. But I turned around and read my sweet little girl a bedtime story and tucked her in. I think that’s what it means to go through something like this with little ones. Grieving later. Worrying when they’re in bed.
To be honest, I’m not looking forward to being bald, but I’m more worried about losing my eyebrows and eyelashes. Weird and pretty vain, I know, but I love my eyelashes! However, I CANNOT wait to lose my leg hair. Bring. It. On.
I mean come on, tell me you’re not a little jealous of my hair. And my family. And our attire.
My hair loss plan is to use it to my advantage as best as I can. I already had my aunt cut it a little shorter and with thick bangs just to see what it would look like. The bangs look awful on me, but now I know. Next up, a pixie cut? I never really imagined cutting my hair that short, but what if it looks amazing? Now I’ll know. If not, don’t fret…I’ll be wigging it soon enough.