Today we celebrate my youngest son's first birthday. He was born 14 months after my mother died, so she wasn't there anymore to see me pregnant for the second time, to hold her fourth grandchild in her arms, or to have his coin touch her arm on a daily basis. She did know, however, that we wanted to try for another child, and it was a thought that made her happy, even though she knew she would probably not meet that child (at least not in this life).
When gearing up for another round of IVF in our quest for baby #2, my mom's situation got a lot worse. Being in a different country and not able to see her every day, it was hard for me to know how bad it really was. So I started suppression. Just before I was to start stimulation I got a very emotional call from my parents. I knew she was doing a lot worse than before, but my dad said it was really really bad. They were still going on a river cruise organized for sick and disabled people, but, he told me, after that she wanted it to be over. I couldn't believe it, it was so hard. I didn't quite know what "she wants it to be over" would entail, but I knew it would not go hand in hand with our IVF schedule. I told my dad, I asked him if he thought she could hang in there a bit longer. He handed the phone to my mom. I explained my situation to her (it seems so selfish now), asked her if she thought she could wait. We were both crying. She answered that life had become so unbearably hard for her, she didn't think she could do it. I went into denial. Four days after starting stimming, when at my mom's side in Holland, I came to my senses and we canceled our cycle. Three days later my mom died.
We tried again a few months later. It was a BFN. I felt very down. But luckily we had one frozen embryo left from this cycle, with which we did a FET in early May 2011. And now our son is one year old.
I cannot share my son's milestones or funny things that happened with my mother anymore. But somehow I choose to believe that she knows him. As the months since her passing went by, I was looking for that bird, or ray of sunshine, or some other sign that would tell me my mom was somehow still there with me. But I had the feeling there was nothing. Until I realized that if there was somewhere I could find my mother's spirit, it was in my baby's eyes. This boy, so calm, so happy, has something of her in him (even though everyone keeps telling me he looks so much like his dad).
My dad decided to add a coin for him to the bracelet. It is complete now.
5 comments:
I have tears streaming down my face like every time I have read your posts on the topic. I just feel I want to hug you, don't know what else to say
I wish your mum was there to meet your son.
Yes, she knows. I hope so too.
"Until I realized that if there was somewhere I could find my mother's spirit, it was in my baby's eyes."
I am glad you found it. And the best part is, those will always be there....
Looking for that ray, that one butterfly, that one leaf, that star that falls right into our open palms. We search for it everywhere, don't we?
So often I see my mother's expressions in both Burrito's and Tamale's faces. Between the two of them they only have one feature that resembles my mother (Tamale has her/my eyes) but they both make so many of her expressions. Sometimes it's like they're reacting to things on her behalf. Just like, perhaps, your baby is seeing the world on his grandmother's behalf.
Hugs to you.
my boy too was born 14 months after my mom died. Your post hits home and breaks my heart. It would have been her first grandchild and there are times when I wish for nothing more than my mom to be able to meet my boy and him her. I've got to think that she is here with us anyway.
^hugs*
Oh how my heart is aching for you! Just aching. So sorry for the loss of your sweet mom. And at the same time, I'm so glad that you have both of your little boys to tell about her. Thanks for sharing this powerful post with the rest of us through the Creme.
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