Yeah, so I "borrowed" a title... whatever.
So sorry it has been a while since we last blogged. I have been kind of busy and preoccupied.
Mother's Day (which should have been one of those golden moments being pregnant with my 1st child) turned out to be a bit of a bust. My husband made a grand effort to make my day a very special one and I love, adore and appreciate all he did for me that morning.
That afternoon however... brought such a turn of events which tested my fortitude in such a grand capacity that I was seriously surprised I didn't have my child that day, 3 months early.
Many of you know that I got a call from my mom that day. 2:30pm...
Adam and I were taking stuff to the dump - getting rid of a bunch of crap we no longer needed or that good will (or our community) would take off our hands. All in happy preparation for the 1st phase of "Nesting".
My phone rings and it's my mom. (who I already spoke with as soon as I woke up to wish her a happy mother's day... and at that time - didn't sound good AT ALL)
She was scared (which she has never ever admitted to me in all my life - even when she was going through breast cancer 15 yrs ago), and concerned that she may not make it through the night. (SHIT)
She asked me to get a hold of my brother in MD and tell him that he needs to leave to drive the hour and a half to stay with her through the night because she doesn't think she will make it and needs him there.
Needless to say - I call... and call and call... no answer for 15 minutes which seems like an eternity as I sit beside my husband looking blankly at him while we are at the dump.
Finally Carter answers - I explain to him the situation and he gives me flak. Saying things like - "I just spoke to her this morning and she said she was "fine". (Really Carter? I tell him that a LOT can change in the matter of only a few hours and that I don't think he understands the situation....) *carter raising voice and getting all pussy hurt...* "Don't understand the situation!?!? I have been there for her every weekend (LIE) by her side (LIE) helping her with Doctors and making appointments and being there for her in every capacity (LIE) and you say I don't understand the situation?!?!?" (SIGH)
While I explain to my older brother that I am grateful that he has been there and so glad to know that he (finally) gives a frog's fat ass about his own mother (in so many words), that I was there too, 15 years ago, by myself... doing it ALONE for her. And while this cancer is more aggressive and waaay different... that this is not a "which child is better at taking care of mom" contest - that (word for word) "Let's not compare the size of our dicks here" - this is about Mom, and her needs and not who has the better Florence Nightingale persona. (The reality check was enough for him to walk away from the bbq he was holding at his house just enough for him to call mom, and tell her - "Oh, Ali didn't tell me it was THIS serious, I'll be there tonight")
2 hours later I am packed and at the airport headed to PA/DE on a red eye.
Scrambling for help - I find angels wanting to assist me in my travels... Amy Moss... a Boobilicious Wonderment of Heaven on Earth... (a walker stalker I have seen for a few years in Philly, a friend with on FB, yet never personally met) She offered at a moments notice to pick me up at the airport and drive me to my mom's house in Southern Delaware. 6am she shows up - WaWa coffee at the ready for me, a bag of snack goodies to keep a preggo happy and a hug and a smile that melted my heart. How wonderful that God sent to me (and to so many others who she helps) a woman (who at my greatest time of need and confusion) who calmed and soothed me and gave without thinking.
When I got to my moms @ 7:15am - I saw and heard just how bad the situation was with my mom.
Here I am at 7 months pregnant, facing the fact that this may be the last trip home where I see my mom alive.
Needless to say the next week was rough. She was admitted into the hospital and my brother basically dropped off the radar that whole week. I guess he figures that while I was there, the situation was under control and he wasn't needed. (SIGH)
Every day - driving over an hour one way to the hospital to go visit mom. I was walking the halls of the hospital a complete zombie on some days due to lack of sleep (for several reasons). I was good about my diet while there and ate every 4 hours and was drinking water like a champ. I was taking care of myself on auto pilot while being there for mom on manual pilot.
There were days (mom doesn't know about and hopefully never will) where after or during a mid visit with mom, I would find myself in her car driving without even thinking of my destination... finding myself back "home" on the Main Line over an hour away - searching out 30 minutes with my best friend, seeking out a family friend to see for 10 minutes for a hug while she was at her sons baseball game, driving through Valley Forge Park, going to go visit an old neighbor to sit and chat with for a few hours.... anything of "normalcy
Oh how I longed for the days when life was "normal".
The next week spent at my mom's home after she was released from the hospital was rough. I did what I could around the house to make her comfortable and fought back the tears hidden behind closed doors. During the entire trip - I had the support of so many wonderful people. People who knew to say the right things needed at the right times. My Westie Bestie checking in with me - but giving me my space to deal, knowing that I'd call on her when needed. Certain actions like that meant the world.
Friday May 20th... My friend Jesse (another angel who I knew back in Elementary School, lost touch with but recently reconnected with thru FB) drove from PA to DE to bring me back to PA.
That morning, I had to shake off whatever nerves I had left. I had to be the strongest I ever was... for her... for me... for my baby. (How do you say good-bye when you don't know if it will be the last time you see her alive? How do you thank her for all she has done for you? How do you not scream and yell and kick and punch? How do you?)
I raised my shirt and put her hand on my belly, fighting back all my emotions. She patted it gently and I bent down to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. I told her how much I love her and to keep drinking plenty of water (I was at a loss for words - but clearly her hydration was important to me at that very moment). I took out her trash cans, packed my bags in Jesse's car and had that massive lump in my throat where I just needed to break down.
Landing back in California and seeing Adam at the airport, I had so many mixed emotions. Guilt of leaving mom - but knowing I had to take care of me and my child. Guilt for leaving Adam for 2 weeks stressing over the fact that his pregnant wife was 3000 miles away dealing with this crap. Guilt for feeling guilty?? I don't know - it was there.
Since then, my mom has restarted her chemo regimen. She has had a few more set backs with her red blood count and her blood platelet counts being very very low. She has admitted more frequently that she is scared. Not so much of dying or what this terminal disease is doing to her... but scared that she won't ever meet her grandson or things of the future. (not quite sure how to respond to her on that or how to handle that whole situation in general)
And no... my brother has not been to seen my mom since the day after Mother's Day... the day I arrived off a red eye from California a month ago.
Again - I am just waiting to exhale....
