Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Mom is all you need.

This last week and a half has been a tough one. Brinley has been doing really well and trucking along as usual, but my mom isn't well. She's been dealing with some off the wall issues like severe vertigo, migraines, vomiting, she's lethargic and nobody seems to know why, or how to fix it. For the last several years my mom has been sick on and off, and for the most part she's dealt with a lot, diabetes, kidney failure, sight loss, cancer, and the kitchen sink. There has been times where I have been far away from her, but I was never in a position where I couldn't hop a flight and be by her side if push came to shove...well up until now. Of course dealing with her being in the hospital brings up the inevitable feeling of death. Here I am a mess when I can't speak to her everyday, but what would I do if I couldn't talk to her at all? There is no back up plan, no "in case of emergency mom". She is all I have, the only person I can get valued parental advise from. She's taught me how to be a mom, how to cope and deal with the bumpy road that raising children can be. So I sit and I worry, I pace and I take my ativan and I worry a little less (because the medication kicks in).

With Brinley still in treatment, I'm not comfortable leaving Blake holding all the cards, if something was to go wrong with Brinley, there is no guarantee I would be able to make it back in time to help juggle our crazy life. I also experience major anxiety when it comes to being away from Brinley. Could I take her? Sure, but having her 6+ hours away from a Children's Hospital is not ideal. So here I stay, stone walled. Granted nothing major has happened, but I've been having a hard time coping with the fact that I'm stuck here. When my mom had her first kidney transplant, my husband put me on the next plane to be with her. He took Carter, who was only 5 months old at the time and sent me to be by her side. But this time I have to sit on the sidelines and watch. I don't get front row seats, I have to hope that the next time I talk to her, she will feel better...even if its just the smallest of improvements.

To top it off, Christmas is up in the air. My dad will come (thank goodness, because the kids would be 100% crushed if neither of them could make it) but my mom is a question mark. Maybe if she improves she can make it, but I think she's preparing us all for the fact that she can't.  Don't get me wrong, I love my dad, he's an amazing Papa, and he's super helpful around the house, but I need my mom. As Brinley's treatment is coming to a close, I feel like I need her here to keep me sane. She played such a huge roll during the days of Brinley's diagnosis, so it only feels appropriate that she's here for the end, right?

So I'm going to sit, pace, and hope that on December 15th she will get off of the air plane with my dad. Because if not it won't be the same without her, and this dark little cloud over my head will loom a little longer.