Lost my husband, love of my life
Bear with me. I've tried to summarise my story to the best of my ability...
My husband was diagnosed with an inoperable benign brain tumor in 2008. The tumor was slowly growing, so we had to operate. The search for a surgeon who would agree to do the operation was a long one, but we finally found one.
In 2010 we tied the knot and a month later he had the very risky brain surgery. The surgery seemed to be a success. Recovery was a long road. My husband, after seeming better for about a year, slowly began to deteriorate again (seizures, loss of ability to read, etc.). We found out that the residual tumor was growing again, but seemed to be growing rather slowly. Another operation was not an option.
Towards the end of 2012, my husband became very frustrated and depressed and could not read properly. Some of us put it down to depression as the doctors said his tumor was still benign.
On Tuesday 8 January 2013 after being admitted into hospital for what seemed like a long-winded tummy bug, we found out that my husband's tumor had turned malignant. The tumor had taken over so rapidly & he had no chance of survival. He was given a few weeks to a couple of months to live.
He seemed okay with this. He said he had been expecting it for a few years now. He had arranged all his finances - paid off debts, updated his will, etc. - about 6 months before. I don't know how he knew, but he did.
He died on the 9th of May 2013. We never had a very easy marriage, but we loved each other so deeply. We always agreed that no one else could possibly love each other more than we did. Our bond was so strong. Our love was something we knew only comes once in a lifetime. I feel lost now. Almost crippled by the pain at times. The only thing getting me through is our baby inside me. His blessing to me.
He lasted for longer than the doctor's anticipated, but towards the end I hardly recognised him. It was awful watching him deteriorate, but I took comfort in knowing we loved each other so much. He comforted me as I comforted him. Everything that needed to be said had been said. I know now that he had been preparing me for his death for years. We spoke about death often and I never understood how he could be so accepting and unafriad of death.
His death was not long ago. My wounds are still fresh. I am so afraid. I feel guilty. I feel lost. I know I am strong and I have to be strong for the miracle growing inside me, but I sometimes don't know if I can go on.