September 20, 2007

The day that changed my life forever

Today we had clinical and I was on post-partum. It was an easy day, and I needed that. I was exausted enough, so the slow change of pace was welcomed. I see those new moms with their new little bundles of joy and I feel a little sad. I remember when I had my children and the happiness and hope I felt at the great future ahead. Never would I have imagined that one day my little bundle would be face to face with the unimaginable. I would have never imagined I would be in this situation...not in a million years. My life is overwhelmingly overwhelming. School, home, family and my son's illness is breaking me. I think I've been so busy I haven't been able to properly assimilate all that is facing at the moment. Maybe that's a good thing, but will it catch up with me and haunt me?

At night, that is the worst. It's when I'm all alone with my thoughts and I don't have anything distracting me. Sometimes I just cry, and cry and push those thoughts and feelings away because they are too real...too vulnerable...too much for me to take. I take on different roles throughout the day. At school I'm focused, at clinical I am organizing and planning, at home I am mommy, but at night, in my bed




My heart is so sad regardless of my positive thoughts. My reality is also my nightmare and I have no control over it. I pray, I smile, I hide my fears.
When we were at the doctor's office, before Aidan's diagnosis, I came home and looked up leukemia because it was mentioned, in an "I'm sure that's not it" sort of way. I sat at my computer and Googled the word. What I read had me in hysterics. I knew, I knew in my gut, in my soul, even though I didn't want to. A mother knows. I knew that those signs and symptoms were describing my son. I felt my heart in my feet and felt my soul split apart.

At the hospital while waiting on "the" results, I knew. I prayed to God, but all the while, I knew that my prayers were going to be unanswered. I sat in the chapel and wept and lost all control. My body shook uncontrollably from fear. The whole time I was in there, I stared at the windows. They had little children on them praying and reading the bible. I remember those stained glass windows as if they were the lines on my own face. I remember the nurse's reaction as she walked in to find me, distraught, disheveled, lost. I wanted to scream!!!!! I wanted to hit her just for being there and not doing anything but watching me fall apart. I wanted to shake her and make her fix it! It wasn't her fault, but still, I wanted to blame someone. I wanted to know why? WHY, WHY, WHY HIM? Why Aidan? "Not now! Not my baby! No, no no!"

My heart knew, despite my minds advice. I got it all out, there in that chapel, so that when I walked back in to look at Aidan's face I'd have no more tears to weap. I felt a peace as I left there, because I prepared mtself as best I could. We were told on the phone, I gulped and almost vomited at my husband's feet. I saw his face break, fall, but pull back together so as not to scare me. I knew he did that for me. We looked into each others eyes while listening and I think we both left our bodies for a moment. Aidan was next to us, in his hospital bed. We kept it together, for him. I thik it was in the middle of the day, but I can't remember. I lost some of that day and thinking back now it seems like a blur. But there is one thing I remember with absolute certainty... The doctor said it will be ok, he'll be cured, she's sure of it. There's hope, the hope we were begging in our broken hearts to hear. We cling to that with all of our might. I cling to it because it's all I've got. With every tear that runs from his sweet little cheeks, with every smile that he gives despite everything, I have hope. Without hope, what is there? Yes, I too have my low moments. Today is one of those days and lately, many of my days have been low. How does someone process something such as this?

There are so many families that are going through this exact same thing, so why do I feel so all alone?

Never take life for granted.

I'm glad I got to get this out, once and for all.


RN Someday said...

Christy - I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you are going through, I'm not even a mother. But, it seems as though the prognosis is good if you all can just get through the next couple of years. I know he has to be on maintenance treatment for several years to ensure a full cure. may God bless you and your family. Remember, "He will not out you through it if he won't bring you through it" or something like that. I wish you peace in your heart.

Connie said...

Can I put this post on my blog?
So well written, so well said. Your words could soothe other heart-broken parents and grandparents.
You are almost done with nursing school... you are almost done!
One day at a time.(or hour, minute,second)

Christy (Soulshine) ~ RN to be said...

Hi you guys. I am trying to keep positive. Sometimes my emotions overcome that. But I'm getting through minute at a time.

Yes, Connie you may post it on your blog. :-)

Thank you all for your encouraging words.

Drofen said...

Oh Christy.