One month

Today marks one month since mom passed. One month ago at this very time, she was receiving last rites from Father Mark. Over and over in my head I have wanted to blog about every last detail of September 3rd, but I haven't. I'm afraid that I will forget something, but really, how can you forget your mom's last breath?

Since mom passed, I gave birth to a beautiful little flower named Elise Kimberly. 13 days after ma passed. The next day, I was on Zoloft. I've blogged about this before, it makes me feel like a robot. I don't feel as though I've been mourning mom since I am drugged out now. And have a newborn. It's all just too too much, right?

I'm afraid that mom is going to come to me in a dream, but that I won't remember it in the haze of nursing at 4 in the morning. I don't think that's possible though...I think it took my dad just a bit to come and visit me. I am hoping to see mom soon.

So, the day my mom died will be told soon. I guess I'm just not ready to put the words to paper yet. I remember everything. It's so hard to believe that I haven't talked to my mom in one month. Mind blowing. I miss you. Terribly.

Rest in Peace, Mom

I'll save the story for later, but my mom passed away Tuesday, September 3 at 4:19. She was surrounded by her family. And it was awful. My heart breaks because I don't have her, but I know my mom is whole and happy with HER mom. It's what she has wanted for so long. The battle is over...my mom is at peace. I love you.

Last rites

were just administered, this is so fucking surreal. One minute my sister and I were sitting and chatting and the next my dad called to say that Father Mark from St. Mary's was coming over to bless her.

It was beautiful. Mom was agitated, but shook her head yes when Kasey asked if she liked it. I was able to give the host to mom on one of her water/popsicle things.

Hospice was here this morning and said that it looks like we are getting close. Maybe a few days. Cue the awfulness.

I hate this.

This is what I just sent to my friends. My crying is getting in the way of blogging, so this will have to do for today.

 

Hi guys -

I'd just like to say that I super appreciate the texts, letters, cards, phone calls, etc. Since I wrote this a week ago, mom has really slid downhill to the point that I am now on FMLA leave to care for her. A week ago she could talk, eat, go to the bathroom, swallow her medication, clean herself and today she can do none of those things. Not a single one.

My family and I have begun around the clock care for her, something that we thought Hospice was going to be able to provide for us.  It's been hard, but everyone is pitching in. I think my sisters and I have been averaging about 6 hours a day this weekend and then they have been switching who can spend the night to help dad out. With me being 9 months prego, pulling the night shift isn't in the cards.

This has been incredibly hard. I desperately want to talk about it, but I can't. Theresa texted me and I thought I could talk to her, but I drove the whole way home after work trying to think of what I would say to her. I literally can't talk about it. Brian is my only confidant at this point and it's even hard to talk to HIM about it. Sue helped me out this weekend which was great and I made an attempt to call Annie, but by the time she called back in a few minutes, I couldn't formulate a sentence. 

It's hard because I keep thinking that I would be able to talk to my dad about this and feel better, but he's gone too. Please forgive the woe is me moment, but why do I have to lose both my parents in the same year? It's not fair. Dad would have been able to console me a little. I would have still had one biological parent. I just hate this.

I would be very surprised if mom made it through the week. I am terrified of what this week is going to bring. And in no time I am going to have another baby. It's all happening too fast.

Sorry to bring the party down, I just had to get all of this out there. I have the greatest group of friends ever....I am just an incredibly sad girl right now.

Love,

Jess

Nearing the end

My mom's best friend drove 3 hours tonight to say goodbye to mom. And she'll drive 3 hours straight home. Kathy said that it was important that she be there. And it was. I wish/pray/hope that my mom knew she was there.

Kathy told us that it is sometimes hard to make friends as adults, and that mom was her first adult friend. They were thick as thieves for a long time. Once the cancer started, mom kind of withdrew from a lot of people, Kathy included. I can't imagine what Kathy was thinking and feeling tonight as she saw my mom. I tried to warn her, it's a very sad sight.

Mom has literally had four spoonfuls of ice cream over the past two days. Has gone pee twice. Is rarely up. And when she is, she's not really there. She is so weak, so frail, so precious. Speaking with her is non existant right now. Hearing her is almost the same. We have gone to a dark place in the last two weeks, I can't even believe it. Thankfully (???) mom is so drugged that she is "comfortable." I'm not sure that I can really wrap my mind around that concept.

You can sit and sit with mom for hours as she sleeps, but when she makes one move, you feel like your chest is going to explode, that you can't move fast enough to aid her, that you are going to LITERALLY break her when you move her.

I had to put underwear on my mom. I had to wipe her tush. My sisters have fawned over her just as much, if not more, as I have. It's amazing how you just DO when they can't do for themselves.

We are nearing the end. It makes me incredibly sad. I'm keeping it together fairly well, but in all honesty, I have no idea what I am feeling. I don't want her like this, mom would be fucking mortified. Oh god, would she ever be. We try to give her dignity, but it's really hard when she is rolling around on the bed.

I fucking hate motherfucking breast cancer. It's stealing my mom from me. Or I should say, it's already stolen her. I can't even remember our last conversation. Kathy said that it would come back to me. I certainly hope so.

Hard to keep up.....Part 2

So I go home Tuesday night, have a really good cry on my husband's shoulder and go to sleep. We are meeting with the social worker at 8 the next morning at mom's.

At 1:47 am, I sit straight up in my bed out of a dead sleep. Mom died. I just knew it. I checked my phone. No missed calls or messages. I lay back down, still knowing she's dead. I figure I'll wait a few minutes for everyone else to figure out she's dead. Pretty soon, I am back to sleep. Super fucked up.

So, I wake up, get to mom's at 8 and she was sleeping. I guess she got dad up at 3 am and they had been up since then. I brought dad some coffee and pretty soon Kasey, the social worker and mom's nurse were all there. It was the day to work out the calendar of caregivers.

It was actually nice to sit around the table with the team and to chat and learn about how Hospice works, what we should expect, what they can do to help us, etc. Instead of filling out the whole calendar, we decided that the family members that we've asked to help will all come over on Saturday and sign up for times. That way they can see the new layout of the home and get some tips on what to do for mom.

The new layout of the home? That would be a hospital bed, toilet and wheelchair in the family room. Yeah. We're there. It just make the most sense to have her in a bed rather than the couch. This is just so reminiscent of grandma Perkins to me. I remember her house and the hospital bed. And then I remember she died not too long after that. Not the most pleasant of all memories.

All of the medical equipment was being delivered yesterday, I am headed to mom's right after work. I am trying to get my mind right so that I am prepared when I go into the house - 1. for mom's appearance 2. for that damn hospital bed.

Oh, and in the mix of everything, I had to ask my two BFF's to be our witness on mom's will and POA. Having someone outside of the family see her paperwork just felt creepy to me. I mean, Anne and Sue don't care, but it was weird for me.

So, I am probably missing a lot, but those are the highlights. I just can't believe we are here. She has gone downhill so fucking fast. I feel so bad for her. It is crushing to see your mom like this....miserable, drugged up, out of it. It's crushing to see my dad being so crazy and out of control and freaked out. I can barely take it, but what the fuck choice do I have?

Hard to keep up...Part 1

the blog when everything is happening at lightening fast pace. So, I guess this is the update as I have it:

Monday, based on my work emails, it looks like I was here the whole day (it's awful that I simply cannot recall this information). The MOMENT I stepped outside of work, Katie called me crying saying that she had been calling around all day looking for home health care for mom, but that it was going to run us about $2,000 per week. I was on the phone with her for about the first half hour home and then on the phone with Hospice for the last half hour. It was determined that our family would meet with the social worker, Angelique, Wednesday to talk about our care options for mom.

Tuesday, again I worked all day, but went over to mom's directly after work. Katie told me that mom fell that day and I decided that I needed to go over there and see what was happening. As dad says, she didn't fall, she "buckled." Going down one freaking step into the family room. When I got to mom's, it was just awful. Dad is stressed to the hilt, mom looked like a sad, brittle woman. It almost hurts to look at her, I just don't know how her frame is so small. So very, very small.

She started to ask me something and it was quickly apparent that I could not hear her. Like, I had to put my ear next to her mouth to hear her. As the nurse later explained, mom is so weak that she can't get the air exerted past her vocal chords to really make a sound. I felt like I was treating her like Colin. When I don't understand him, I just shake my head and say "yes." So I did that once with mom and she asked why I wasn't answering the question. Then I really leaned in to find out that she was asking me how much longer they expect her to live like this. And my response was, for as long as you have a flicker of hope. What else was I supposed to say? I can't imagine living how she is living right now.

So, at one point, mom was sitting up on the couch and I was right next to her. All of the sudden, she places her fists on the couch and tries to push herself up. I then tried to get up to help her.....and had a huge, stabbing contraction/vagina pain. I was literally stuck. Dad sees what is happening and flips the fuck out. He starts screaming at me to GET HER. DON'T LET HER STAND. He runs over, pushes the coffee table out of the way and grabs on to mom who is standing by now. He just keeps yelling. I tried to tell him that I was having a contraction, but he was out of his goddamn mind. I know he was just worried, but man, it was overboard. Right in that second, I knew that I was going to be no help to mom. She may be dying, but she is a fast mama jamma. My mom does not want to be held down.

So, after a couple more yells from dad and some kisses to mom (she did stroke the back of my hair for a bit...her nails are a little long and it honestly felt really nice to have that touch interaction with her).

So that was Monday and Tuesday. I'll make a separate post now for Wednesday, I feel like this is getting to be a book!