Thursday, June 2, 2011

Why I have been MIA

Mom and two of my babies
I am still here!  I am not sure if anyone has even been stopping by, but thought I would put this dreaded update on here.  I have been thinking about it for at least a week, I thought it might be good therapy, but I am still not sure if I have the strength to do it yet.  So, bear with me!
On Mother's Day I lost my wonderful, beautiful mom.  She had scerosis of the liver (crazy since she had never had a drink) that was caused by auto immune diseases that fought her liver and won.  She went to the hospital with excrutiating pain, and we discovered that she had an obstructed bowel.  They were hesitant to do surgery because her liver was so bad.  I never realized how much our liver is responsible for.  She was retaining fluid, not just a little either, they drained out 13 lbs from her abdomen, and left at least the same amount in (apparently there is some law about how much fluid can be removed from a person), not once but three times in the two weeks she was in the hospital.  That is a crazy amt of fluid, and was so uncomfortable for her as well. 
Mom and I when I was a baby
The bowel obstruction is a pretty easy fix for a normal person, but we were told her chances of surviving the surgery were only 50%,  They figured that when they made the incision all the fluid she was retaining would gush out and that would cause her to crash.  There was also the concern about her body processing the drugs they would have to give her with her minimal liver function.  Anyway, they tried every other treatment available and eventually it was 100% chance of death without the surgery.  Not good odds either way, but at least we stood a chance with the surgery!  She did great during the surgery, everything went better than expected.  Unfortunatley, the anesthesia finished off her little bit of liver function she had.  Everything we put in our bodies goes through our liver, I didn't realize that.  Her liver didn't have the strength it needed, which put the stress on her kidneys, which also shut down.  The meds essentially put her into a coma from which she never woke up.  That was so difficult to watch, and so hard that we couldn't fix it.
  She was, unarguably, my best friend next to my husband.  The woman was amazing, and I adored her.  We talked every day on the phone, and I took her closeness for granted.  I can't tell you how many times I have picked up the phone to share some silly story, some exciting tidbit, or, just to hear her voice.  Clayton has always given me a hard time that I called her for advice, even if he had already given me the same advice, that I took it more to heart if I heard it from my mom.  He wasn't completley right, but I did almost always ask her what she thought about anything I was concerned about. 
I am greatful that I at least got to say goodbye.  She was in the hospital for two weeks and I spent as much of that time as I could with her.  Even when she first went in and we didn't know what was wrong, I had this feeling that I wasn't going to have her for long.  I am still in shock I think.  This is one of those things that happens to other people, not me!  How horrible is that thought?  It just doesn't seem possible, she was only 63.  I am so thankful for the knowledge that I will see her again.  I am so greatful to know that she is out of pain and happy now.  I love the fact that families can be together, and I am going to do everything in my power to be sure that I am worthy to see her again. 
I miss her so badly, it is hard to get through the day most days.  I keep thinking that should be letting up some.  That life should be getting back to normal sometime soon, but I feel like the opposite is happening.  I have been told by friends that have lost their moms that it doesn't really ever get easier, just more bearable.  I know it sort of seems like that is the same thing, but for the first time in my life I get it.  I wish I didn't have to, but I do understand what that means. 

So, if anyone is still reading this, sorry for the depressing entry!  I just felt that maybe if I expressed it on here it would help me feel better.  Well... turns out, not so much.  It doesn't take the reality away.  It doesn't bring my Mommy back.  It doesn't help me fall asleep.  It is still there, the harsh truth.  I guess I have to work through it, and I am just not there yet.  So for now, good night and I promise that my next entry will be fun, happy, and full of craftiness!
Isn't she stunning?  This was her engagment picture


Elly said...

My condolences to you, I am so sorry for your loss. She was amazingly beautiful.

A Speckled Trout said...

My father died when he was 64 - not as sudden as your mom, but equally sad. I miss him every day and it's going on 20 years. In time, you will recall the happy events of your mom's life and not how she left. I can't say it gets better, but you will become a much better friend to someone going thru the same thing and one day soon you will do something just like your mom did, and it will make you smile instead of crying. Hang in there, forge on and never apologize for wanting to speak of her. She was quite lovely and you, I'm sure, have inherited all of her best parts.

A Speckled Trout said...

Tami.......Thanks for posting on my blog. My little heart went a pitter-patter when I read it. If you want to know about my story with my dad check this out........

"The Summer of '90" post. It still makes me cry and the story of your mom brought it all back. Speak of her to your children often and she will live on and on until you meet up with her again. Then you can tell her how she still kept helping you when the going was tough.

A Speckled Trout said...

I forgot to tell you in this my 3rd comment (very stalkerish, I know) that you're stinking cute snowman fridge is what drew me to your blog. On Pinterest, no less!!! The new Big Daddy of all things cool. Be proud there, honey. You made the big leagues.

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