Coming Clean
I've been going through the most miserable, heart-wrenching, madness-inducing time of my life for the past two weeks. I've tried SO hard to keep a cheery disposition and to pretend like nothing is wrong, but its down to the wire now and time to come clean.
As those of you who read my bulletins/blogs/or are my actual friends know, my father passed away in August of last year, following up the death of my husband's grandfather and father, and the miscarriage of our first child. Well, November 17th we found out that I was pregnant again. I didn't tell anyone outside of our family and a handful of friends. December 5th my mother went back into the hospital and was promptly put onto a ventilator again. December 6th I miscarried for the second time that year. Mom eventually got better and was sent home. Christmas was a blast with my family for once, everyone was in a good mood and we sat around my mother's house playing Wii Sports (my mom kicked my ass!). She looked pretty damn good for a woman who needed a double lung transplant and had just gotten off of a machine that breathed for her only a couple weeks prior.
New Year's Eve I spent with my mother and husband, watching HGTV and helping her out because she wasn't feeling well and her oxygen levels were running a little low. We snuggled in her big bed watching the big screen in her room and just hung out. I didn't leave until 9 a.m., and I felt bad about it because she'd wanted me to stay longer. But I promised her I'd be back in a few days to dye her hair for her and pluck her eyebrows.
January 4th, about 11 a.m. I got woken up by a phone call from my sister Misty. Mom was being rushed by ambulance back to the hospital. Same thing she'd been in for several times over the past year - dangerously low oxygen levels, difficulty breathing, and numbness in lower extremities. They admitted her and stuck her back on the vent. She looked worse than usual, both my sister and I knew deep down that Mom wasn't coming home this time.
A week later Misty called again, something went wrong with Mom and she wasn't responding to anyone, she couldn't move her right arm, her eyes wouldn't focus on anything. We found out a few days ago that she'd been having strokes, which have left her with large amounts of damaged brain tissue. Her right arm is paralyzed, her body is too week to do much more than shift or raise her good arm. Last night she could nod or shake her head, she let us know that she recognized us, but a lot of the time when we would talk to her she'd go all cloudy like her mind just wasn't there. It was horrifying, seeing my mother look at me like an animal that has no idea who I am.
She made my sister and I PROMISE her that we would not let them keep her on life support. She didn't want to exist if it was like that, because that's no way to live; unable to do anything for themself or to enjoy life.
The doctor's wanted to do a trachiatomy because the vent can only go in through her mouth for so long. We told mom this and asked if she wanted it done. She shook her head. We asked if she wanted to stay on the vent, and she shook her head again. We told her that if they couldn't do the trach, they wouldn't be able to keep her on the vent. Still she refused. She doesn't want to die, but she doesn't want to live in this condition.
So my sister (who has my mother's power of attorney and has discussed in length with my mother what is to be done in case something just like this were to happen) has to go through with my mother's wishes: Monday morning at 9 a.m., the life support is being shut off, and in a matter of hours my mother will be gone from this world. The one person I could always turn to, who never once judged me, loved everyone in her life more than anyone I've ever known, is going to be gone. And each time that I look into her big blue eyes, touch her warm flesh, I'm wracked with pain and anguish that this amazing woman who has suffered through so much, but fought valiantly against every road block in her way is no longer going to be dead and cold and lifeless in such a short span of time.
I'm trying really hard not to be selfish, I KNOW that this is HER decision. Its just so fucking hard trying to grasp the fact that I won't be able to curl up on the couch with her and rest my head in her lap anymore, I won't be able to listen to her witty little rants about random things, the air-headed things that just slip out of her so frequently. No more mommy hugs, no more hearing mommy say "I love you, you'll always be my little baby. Each night I still dream that you're still in my tummy and swear that I can still feel you kicking inside me during those dreams." Or her telling me that she doesn't like my current hair color but prefered the one I sported previously, or rolling her eyes at new piercings or tattoos and saying, "Well, its your thing. As long as you like it." She always understood me, she's the only person in the world who really did. She never held my eccentricities against me, and always stuck up for me when other people complained about them.
She's such a wonderful person, so full of love and had such a fire burning within her. I never thought it'd burn out so soon. I have so much more to say... so many things that I want to write down, I wish that I could, but I don't know how to express them. Every day I try to be as strong as she is, I try to do things for my family and not to cry in front of them. I try to eat, sleep... care about anything, but I just can't. Today is the first day in I don't know how long now that I've eaten more than a few bites of food, slept more than two hours. I went for three days with absolutely no sleep.... I don't even know how I'm functioning when I'm so torn up inside and my brain won't stop flashing images of her hooked to those machines, staring off into space, eyes and skin sunken in.
I can't do this, not again. Especially not her. I love her so much. I have to let her go, I know. I have no choice anyhow. I know why, I do know why she's leaving us. I just wish it hadn't come to this. I'm not ready to live in a world without her, I still feel like I'm just some dumb kid!
Please don't tell me that you're sorry. I appreciate it, but I don't want to hear it. Please don't say, "If there's anything I can do, anything you need..." either. Unless you can make my mother healthy again, I can't deal with that line one more time.
As those of you who read my bulletins/blogs/or are my actual friends know, my father passed away in August of last year, following up the death of my husband's grandfather and father, and the miscarriage of our first child. Well, November 17th we found out that I was pregnant again. I didn't tell anyone outside of our family and a handful of friends. December 5th my mother went back into the hospital and was promptly put onto a ventilator again. December 6th I miscarried for the second time that year. Mom eventually got better and was sent home. Christmas was a blast with my family for once, everyone was in a good mood and we sat around my mother's house playing Wii Sports (my mom kicked my ass!). She looked pretty damn good for a woman who needed a double lung transplant and had just gotten off of a machine that breathed for her only a couple weeks prior.
New Year's Eve I spent with my mother and husband, watching HGTV and helping her out because she wasn't feeling well and her oxygen levels were running a little low. We snuggled in her big bed watching the big screen in her room and just hung out. I didn't leave until 9 a.m., and I felt bad about it because she'd wanted me to stay longer. But I promised her I'd be back in a few days to dye her hair for her and pluck her eyebrows.
January 4th, about 11 a.m. I got woken up by a phone call from my sister Misty. Mom was being rushed by ambulance back to the hospital. Same thing she'd been in for several times over the past year - dangerously low oxygen levels, difficulty breathing, and numbness in lower extremities. They admitted her and stuck her back on the vent. She looked worse than usual, both my sister and I knew deep down that Mom wasn't coming home this time.
A week later Misty called again, something went wrong with Mom and she wasn't responding to anyone, she couldn't move her right arm, her eyes wouldn't focus on anything. We found out a few days ago that she'd been having strokes, which have left her with large amounts of damaged brain tissue. Her right arm is paralyzed, her body is too week to do much more than shift or raise her good arm. Last night she could nod or shake her head, she let us know that she recognized us, but a lot of the time when we would talk to her she'd go all cloudy like her mind just wasn't there. It was horrifying, seeing my mother look at me like an animal that has no idea who I am.
She made my sister and I PROMISE her that we would not let them keep her on life support. She didn't want to exist if it was like that, because that's no way to live; unable to do anything for themself or to enjoy life.
The doctor's wanted to do a trachiatomy because the vent can only go in through her mouth for so long. We told mom this and asked if she wanted it done. She shook her head. We asked if she wanted to stay on the vent, and she shook her head again. We told her that if they couldn't do the trach, they wouldn't be able to keep her on the vent. Still she refused. She doesn't want to die, but she doesn't want to live in this condition.
So my sister (who has my mother's power of attorney and has discussed in length with my mother what is to be done in case something just like this were to happen) has to go through with my mother's wishes: Monday morning at 9 a.m., the life support is being shut off, and in a matter of hours my mother will be gone from this world. The one person I could always turn to, who never once judged me, loved everyone in her life more than anyone I've ever known, is going to be gone. And each time that I look into her big blue eyes, touch her warm flesh, I'm wracked with pain and anguish that this amazing woman who has suffered through so much, but fought valiantly against every road block in her way is no longer going to be dead and cold and lifeless in such a short span of time.
I'm trying really hard not to be selfish, I KNOW that this is HER decision. Its just so fucking hard trying to grasp the fact that I won't be able to curl up on the couch with her and rest my head in her lap anymore, I won't be able to listen to her witty little rants about random things, the air-headed things that just slip out of her so frequently. No more mommy hugs, no more hearing mommy say "I love you, you'll always be my little baby. Each night I still dream that you're still in my tummy and swear that I can still feel you kicking inside me during those dreams." Or her telling me that she doesn't like my current hair color but prefered the one I sported previously, or rolling her eyes at new piercings or tattoos and saying, "Well, its your thing. As long as you like it." She always understood me, she's the only person in the world who really did. She never held my eccentricities against me, and always stuck up for me when other people complained about them.
She's such a wonderful person, so full of love and had such a fire burning within her. I never thought it'd burn out so soon. I have so much more to say... so many things that I want to write down, I wish that I could, but I don't know how to express them. Every day I try to be as strong as she is, I try to do things for my family and not to cry in front of them. I try to eat, sleep... care about anything, but I just can't. Today is the first day in I don't know how long now that I've eaten more than a few bites of food, slept more than two hours. I went for three days with absolutely no sleep.... I don't even know how I'm functioning when I'm so torn up inside and my brain won't stop flashing images of her hooked to those machines, staring off into space, eyes and skin sunken in.
I can't do this, not again. Especially not her. I love her so much. I have to let her go, I know. I have no choice anyhow. I know why, I do know why she's leaving us. I just wish it hadn't come to this. I'm not ready to live in a world without her, I still feel like I'm just some dumb kid!
Please don't tell me that you're sorry. I appreciate it, but I don't want to hear it. Please don't say, "If there's anything I can do, anything you need..." either. Unless you can make my mother healthy again, I can't deal with that line one more time.