BOSTON -- It has been almost a week since I had surgery and it's all starting to sink in. I'm noticing I have this coping technique where I don’t stress too much before a procedure, but then afterwards I think, "wow, that was scary." Often I get really sad after everything is OK. It’s so strange because I should be feeling relief.

The night before the surgery, I did feel a little stressed. I tried to distract myself by watching the Patriots game. Unfortunately the team did nothing to alleviate my anxiety. Talk about stress.

I had a fitful night’s sleep and woke up around 5 a.m. That's when I did what I wasn’t going to do. I wrote the "Don’t Open Unless the Worst Thing Happens" letter.

I just wrote a quick note to my family and friends telling them how much I loved them. I talked about what a great life I’ve had thanks to their love and support. And I just let my daughters know how much I love them. I’m crying now thinking about it, because what can you really say? They are 3 years old and 6 months old. They would barely remember me if I died now. Enough of that.

That’s why I can’t die now. I have too much left to do. They need me.

Of course I didn’t die in surgery. The surgeons were amazing -- what a fantastic job they did.

The surgery was at 7:30 a.m. at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center. I was relaxed in the pre-op area reading newspapers and talking to my husband Brendan and my Dad. Then the doctors gave me some valium to really relax me. I remember kissing Brendan and my dad and then being wheeled down the hallway.

During my final awake moment in the OR, my surgeon, Dr. Susan Troyan, held my hand and told me everything would be OK. That was so reassuring, and I felt at peace. I was getting this tumor out of me.

During the three and a half hour surgery, Troyan removed all my breast tissue and 14 lymph nodes. At the same time, Dr. Donald Morris, a plastic surgeon, began transverse rectus abdominis myocutaneous (TRAM) flap surgery. It involves constructing a new breast from the lower abdominal skin and fatty tissue. The tissue is tunneled under the skin to the chest area.

Can't really think too much about that.

I woke up with searing pain in my tummy which went away quickly after some painkillers. Overall the pain was not as bad as I expected. The good news with this surgery is that you have instant reconstruction. Huge plus.

I’m very pleased with how it looks. You also have a very flat tummy. The bad news is you are sewn very tight in the belly so I’m still having trouble standing up straight. My back hurts from being hunched over. I also have a huge incision hip to hip. But already I think this was a fabulous option for me. I definitely did not want to go back a year from now and have another major surgery.

TRAM is not for everyone. You have to have enough tummy fat. After two kids, I had just enough. Thanks girls! I also had to make sure reconstruction would not interfere with the radiation treatments ahead. I got everyone from my breast surgeon to the medical oncologist to the radiation oncologist to sign off before I even seriously considered this option.

Here's what I’ve learned so far. You have to talk to a variety of doctors, because I did not know TRAM would be an option for me until I saw a plastic surgeon.

Cancer treatment is the only priority. Period.

Recovery has been interesting. It’s tough to go from a busy life to bed-bound. I went through some serious control issues in the hospital. (Sorry nurses and doctors!) I was very careful about my care and tried to stay aware of everything they were doing to me. (Not easy when you are on painkillers.)

I found it helpful to have family members and friends around as much as I could. They could advocate for me and help me with getting around. Sometimes you feel better having a family member help with basic needs instead of always pressing that nurses' button.

I was in the hospital for three nights and returned home on Thursday. It's tough to be in the house and not be able to do all the things I’m used to doing. It’s Sunday, and I feel absolutely exhausted. I know I need to take it easy, but I want to take care of my family.

My oldest daughter Madeline, 3, seems to be doing OK. She asks some questions and I try to be straightforward. We told her before the surgery that I had breast cancer and needed an operation. She really didn’t ask much after that. Then she came to visit the last night in the hospital.

We had a PJ party and watched "Charlotte’s Web." She asked why I was walking funny. I explained again about the operation. She asked what an operation was, and I told her it's when doctors fix something that's broken in your body. She asked if it hurts, and I said yes. But I told her I feel better every day. She definitely knows I’m sick, but doesn’t seem super bothered by it. Just curious.

I miss being as physically close to baby Cecilia as I was before surgery. I cannot lift her for six weeks due to the stomach incision, but others can put her in my arms so I can still cuddle her. I still do bottles and changes, etc.

Brendan's doing OK. He’s really taken over a lot of the household/kid duties. It’s a big adjustment for both of us. There’s really no normal in our house anymore. There’s a lot more activity than we’re used to having here. It's also disrupting the kids’ sleep schedules. That said, we’re grateful to have so much help. My parents, my three sisters, our friends have been amazing. Everyone’s been cooking meals and stopping by to help. We’ve also received a number of beautiful cards, flowers and books. All very much appreciated. We stay positive because we have so much incredible support. It’s nice not to feel alone in this struggle.

I’m starting to get a little nervous about chemo, but I’ll deal with that next week. Right now, I just want to rest and feel better from this surgery.

The response from the public to this blog and our TV stories has been amazing. My main journey is the same thousands of other women are taking. I just want to get healthy again.

My side journey is my public one. I feel I have a unique ability to reach a lot of people and educate them about this disease. I am not a medical professional, but I have learned a lot in the last month. Women should not be afraid of mammograms or self exams. You have to take care of yourself.

Breast cancer is treatable if it’s caught early.

And even when it’s not caught as early as we’d like, there are still so many amazing treatments. My pathology showed my tumor was 4.5 cm. I have four positive lymph nodes out of 14 removed. One to three nodes would have kept me in Stage II.

One lousy lymph node now puts me at Stage III. I’m kind of angry about that. But it’s just a number. My treatment doesn’t change. My attitude cannot change. I will still beat this.

But that’s why I want others to get their recommended mammograms. Report changes in your breasts to your doctor. I was breastfeeding and did the best I could once I realized something was strange. I have no regrets. I don’t want you to either.

Last week, a reporter called from the Boston Herald and wanted to do a story the day after my surgery. I decided to talk with Jessica Heslam and let her know I was doing well. She called back and asked if a photographer could come by the hospital. I thought she was crazy. A day after major surgery and she wanted to send a photographer by. Hello! I hadn’t even showered. My hair! I said yes because I wanted the world to see you can have Stage III Breast Cancer, a mastectomy, reconstruction and still have a smile on your face.