It has only been a couple weeks since the surgery, a double mastectomy, and my body is still in recovery mode. On some mornings, I can hear Nate playing downstairs with his dad and I feel my heart swell with happiness. "How lucky I am to be a part of this family," I think. On other mornings, on those when the pain is bad, I think how sad it is that I am in this bed and missing out on the cuteness that is surely happening downstairs. My chest is sore, but mostly it is numb. Watching Nate run and play and laugh reminds me that the surgery may have (temporarily) broken my body, but it certainly did not touch my heart, nor my capacity to feel love.