4 Months Pregnant and Suddenly Lost my Mom
I called my mom on the way home from work on Monday three weeks ago. We talked everyday during my long daily commute. My two sons had just started their 2 week vacation my parents. My husband and I were really looking forward to some time alone and getting ready to prepare things for a new baby, due Christmas Eve.
She had taken the boys to swim lessons that morning, told me a funny story about my youngest son and had a wonderful day with them. She said, "well, I am the one that has to go this time...I'm making the boys some mashed potatoes!" Later that night her and my dad took them out for ice cream. She tucked them in and prayed with them as they went to sleep.
7:15 am Tuesday my dad woke her up, as she asked, so she could make them breakfast. But she didn't wake up. She had died sometime in her sleep that early morning.
He called me a little before 8:00 am. I was working from home that morning and with no kids in the house we hadn't set an alarm. "It's mom honey. I'm so sorry. Mom is gone. Your mom died. I'm so sorry, I don't know...I tried everything, I've always been able to make things ok but I can't, she's gone. She's gone. I'm so sorry..." There was more. I don't remember though.
It's three weeks later. We picked out a casket, an outfit for her to wear, we ordered flowers, we buried her. We ate piles of food that my dad's neighbors provided, we swam with the kids in the pool, we enjoyed time out of the daily routine. I dealt with long past family issues and people from far flung corners of our life. I backed my car into a pole, I have haunting nightmares that we actually buried my mom alive.
My girlfriends bring dinner and planted a lemon tree for my mom in our yard. My husband hugs me when I cry myself to sleep every night now.
Sometimes I feel very close to her still. She was amazing and we have always been very close. My friends were always jealous of how lucky I was to have a mom and grandmother like her. She loved my friends and their kids too.
I'm still in shock. It feels like a curtain has come down in some part of my brain and there is activity and grief back and important parts of myself back there, but I can't even access it.
I go to work, my days are good and full of love and support and then I get in my car and can barely breathe through the sobs.
Each day brings a new level of something, a learning, a sadness, a lightness.
I find out Tuesday of next week if we're having a boy or a girl. I invited my dad to come with us and see the baby on the ultrasound. My dad and I have never been very close. We didn't have to be. We both had my mom. It's not the same, having my dad come, but it's what I have. We're working hard to shift roles and stay open to what remains.