June 2007 Archives
What do you do?
What do you do when death has come to your door, knocked, and then run away? What do you do when it returns, but this time, it stays, waiting for you to answer?
What do you do when you've made the arrangements, cleaned out the closets, filed the papers and had those discussions, and that was the first time. And now it's the second time. And there's no energy to be creative or interesting or witty or organized.
Is there anything to do? Or do you simply, for the first time in life, sit down and enjoy the shared silence?
Or do you just go to the wedding? :-)
Yesterday, at Mercy and Nevin's wedding. Little Liam the Lima Bean (as referred to by Grannie Nannie) even got to dance with the bride!
Sorry for the lack of update. Nothing much going on in my life, other than my mother recovering from surgery, Mark busy at school, me planning a friend's wedding party, generally preparing to move - oh yeah, and Liam. You know, nothing much.
Now that Liam is on Pepcid, as opposed to Zantac - which has alcohol in it!!! - he is doing much better. He's still not 100%, but compared to before he's a whole new baby. He's smiling, cooing - and he even laughed at my mother the other day. Oh, and sometimes, after he sneezes, he slips into a coo - "Achoo ... ooooooo." Very cute.
So, my mother was sent a Mylar balloon while in the hospital. My father brought it home and we quickly discovered Liam's favorite person: Mr. Mylar. He loves it. He once sat in his chair, alone, fascinated with Mr. Mylar for over 30 minutes. Which is like infinity in his world. I couldn't believe it.
For your viewing pleasure (or not):
Is over. Went fairly well. They removed tumor, ovaries, and fallopian tubes. Tumor was malignant, and they did find evidence of disease elsewhere. Makes my stomach hurt, but at least she didn't have to have a bowel resection, right?
For future reference, Mara, don't try to organize a large party as your mother is going for surgery shortly after you've given birth and just decided to move to another city.
My mother is having surgery on Thursday. They found a mass that is encompassing both her ovaries. My parents measured a pineapple - it's about that size (yikes!).
We all seem to be handling it pretty well - on the outside. If everyone else is anything like me, our insides are screaming "NOOOO!" We all talked about my mother having a reprieve, and that this might make it even more difficult if/when cancer returns. I suppose we're all holding our breath - super, super hard - hoping that her surgery will come and go and we'll just go back to happy normalcy, and fearing that this is simple futility.
With my schedule (10 hours of nursing, 8 hours of burping/rocking, 6 hours to sleep, eat, shower, etc.) I have A LOT of thinking time - too much, I'd say. I often sit on the couch, nursing Liam, and think (or perhaps "sit stunned" is a better description) "she's 55." You'd think that with all the time we've had since my mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, that I wouldn't be so stunned and so completely confounded by how this became our reality.
I watch my mother holding and enjoying Liam with a certain sadness. I know she's thinking that this is for all the future moments when she won't be able to do this - with Liam or any of her other (hypothetical) grandchildren.
And on that happy note, back to life!
One thing about this parenthood thing - at least at this stage - is all the moments I spend just staring at Liam. In wonderment. As I struggle to take care of him on my own, his constant occupation is to become independent of me. Obviously, right now, it is all small and incremental, but it is true nevertheless.
On a side note, as he finishes nursing, he holds the last sip in his cheeks like a chipmunk for a few seconds before he swallows. It's so cute.
