ErinC1973

Jane, I sent you a PM a few days ago. Let me know if you got it.

I am so very sorry...please reach out to us here. We are here for you, whatever you may need.

God bless him...he was one of the good ones. I am so sorry, Pattie.

Thank you. I'm sorry. I miss you. I love you. I need you. My wonderful, beautiful Mom. Denise C. Braschler September 29,1941-February 8, 2006 Braschler, Denise (nee Kovach) Denise Braschler (nee Kovach), age 64, of Lansing, IL, formerly of Valparaiso, IN, passed away Wednesday, February 8, 2006. She is survived by her loving daughter and son-in-law Erin (Stuart) Harris of Lansing, two grandchildren, Mikkel and Saoirse of Lansing, whom she absolutely loved and cherished, one sister Cerena Kovach of Lansing, one brother Steve (Cathleen) Kovach of St. John, two nieces: Lauren Kovach of Lansing and Brittany Kovach of St. John, and one nephew Matthew Kovach of St. John. Preceded in death by her husband Howard “Howie” in 1999 and her parents Helena in 1995 and Steve in 2000. Retired from Edward G. Sirovatka, Inc. She also leaves behind her two precious cats Nicholas and Grace who miss her very much. She was a very courageous woman who battled many obstacles in her life with unparalleled strength and determination. Her daughter and son-in-law are expecting their third child, Ian, soon. She may have missed holding him in her arms, but we know he will have a special guardian angel for all of his precious life. In lieu of flowers, donations will be made by way of the family to Cancer Treatment Centers of America.

Thank you Pattie. I am SO sad to read this--all of it. I love you Frank.

I lost my dad to LC when I was 27. I lost my mom to LC when I was 32.

Congratulations on your baby boy! I remember having my ultrasounds and finding out the sexes...with my b/g twins, my husband saw one was a BOY right away...and he had to show my how he knew This time around, I could tell right away we were having another boy!! I hope things go smoothly for you from now until his arrival. Please keep us updated on this and your sister. She sounds like she has an incredible support network--not least of which includes her wonderful, thoughtful sis.

Prayers for you and Tom!

Belated thanks for this...I printed it out last week and had a good, cleansing cry...

I am just so sorry...

My mom will be gone one year next Thursday, February 8th. A friend of mine said to me, "Erin, just get through this first year and then there will be no more 'firsts.'" She is so prolific and kindhearted, but how do I explain that it is eating me alive with each passing day that I have not seen my mom? I sat literally frozen on New Year's Eve at 11pm, wanting to push back the clock so badly, because I didn't WANT to see a new year. I still had my mom in 2006. One year ago today, February 3rd, 2006, I still had my mom. A year ago I could still talk to her. Next Tuesday will mark one year since I saw her face, since I bent over and kissed her cheek...and it was warm. Val, this is a portion of a post from you last summer: Posted: Tue Jun 06, 2006 2:54 pm Post subject: Time "I know the saying, "Time heals wounds." And I know that there is some truth to it. But what I have experienced lately, is that the farther I get from Mom's death, I hurt simply for the time that she hasn't been in my life. It is the time itself that inflicts the pain... Just feeling so far away. In two weeks, it will be 11 months. I look at that number and gasp, because it STILL doesn't feel real sometimes. And when it does feel real, it STILL feels like it just happened. I know I say a lot of the same things when I post here, but they are the same things that trip me up. My husband's father has been gone for seven years. When I think about the idea of being without my Mom for seven years... Well I just can't even imagine it. How could that even be possible? But my husband is proof that one day it will be. It makes me feel a little better to see what a vibrant part of his life, his Dad still is... But I still can't imagine that time. I don't want to get that far away. It feels like each day that passes I am that much further away from her, and I hate that the rest of my life when I wake up in the morning, it will be one day more. So... time seems like an enemy, and not a healer. It seems like a mechanism that brings me farther away from my Mom." Missing you so much tonight, Mom...

Frank, Wishing I could reach out and hug you... Please know you and Connie are in my thoughts and prayers constantly. I cherish every word you have ever typed on this site. Peace, my friend...

Grace, Fervent prayers for you, Carlton, and the girls. I feel so helpless, I wish there were more I could do for you. Please update when you can.

I lost my mom on Feb 8, 2006. I don't know...maybe I really am not a part of this "family..."

Add my prayers tonight for Katie's family.

Tina, I am so SO sorry. I really hope everyone is wrong...

Pat, My husband encouraged me to reply to you in support, even though I am not grieving the loss of a spouse. I can relate to a lot of what you said. As a matter of fact, I can relate to much of what you say in MANY of your posts. I've thought about this for a year now, but one of these days I'd really like to get together and have lunch with you, because we are not far from each other. I never would have thought that an issue like this would have my chest heaving in deep, heavy sobs, but it has. I feel for you, dear heart, across the miles.

"Like I said elsewhere, a little bit of hurt can be good for the soul -- it brings it alive." Well, not so much. I don't really think I need someone from this site to remind me of how much I hurt from losing my mom by stating that timelines (obituaries) should be removed from posts. My mom fought just as hard as anyone on this site, alive or dead, and it really upsets me to think that because she is gone now, her fight doesn't matter. I spent the other night in a heap on my bed, sobbing uncontrollably from this, and I hadn't even read the original post. I fell off of another LC support board back in 1999 when my father passed away because I felt as though I had nothing to contribute any longer. This site is divided into sub-sections, and these days, if I post at all, it is mainly on the "grieving" board. Since 2003, I have made may friends on here who are continuing the fight, and I often "check up" on them on other boards. After this, I felt like I had no business sneaking around on other boards and I need to be slapped back on to "Grieving" where I belong. And, that is where I am retreating now...

Sorry, but this really P's me off. I can't find what started the whole thing, but I guess it rather upsets me to think that since my parents are now dead, what they went through in their LC fight just doesn't matter anymore. It kind of makes me feel the way I've felt about my mom's death in general: she experienced so much in her life, was a beautiful, lovely person, and made me everything I am today, but when she died we stuck her in the ground and people around me just went on with their lives within a couple of days. She was HERE, she made a difference, she MATTERED. To ME, anyway. And, I guess all in all, that's why I don't post here very often anymore. I try to give support, but maybe I am just not very good at expressing myself. Coming up on the one year anniversary of my mom's death, I realize I am moody and emotional, but I have also realized that this isn't the place for me to be anymore, since both my parents have now lost their fight. Hearing about this now pretty much solidifies it. Crying...

Nick, First off, congratulations to you and Keri. I know how scary those early days of pregnancy are. I hope this pregnancy continues without event and you are holding a healthy baby in your arms later this year. Now, I won't lie to you; these feeling you have won't go away when you have the baby in your arms. EVERY SINGLE DAY I feel cheated that my mom never knew Ian, that she never held him in her arms. EVERY SINGLE DAY I see his smiling face, or something new he does, it simply tears me up knowing that I can never share these milestones with her. And some days, I swear I don't remember even giving birth to him, since he was born just three weeks after my mom left us. So...with that all being said, I can tell you that I feel with all my heart that Ian is a miracle in every sense of the word. See, we tried for four years to have a baby before we had our twins, who are five now. My mom lived with us and saw then through four years of their lives, and was able to kiss them goodnight every night. When I got pregnant with Ian in the summer of '05, my mom was doing very well, but I told my husband, "This is the wrong time. My mom needs me." I knew I would most likely be on bedrest, and unable to care for her the way I had been. And I swear, when I went on bedrest, my mom went downhill. When she died right before I had Ian, it blew a hold in me that will never heal. But, one thing I can see clearly is that God knew He was going to take my mom from me and He gave Ian to me to "soften the blow." Ian is certainly not a replacement for my mom, and it was very confusing to me to come home with this baby, and have it be like we removed one member of our household and brought in a new one, another person who needed care and attention, just in different ways. I am sad that Ian will never know his beautiful Grandma, whom he looks so much like. He is such a happy baby, she would just eat him up. She PROMISED me she would be here for Ian's birth. I am angry that she didn't know that we named him Ian--the name she picked for him. I look at the pictures of her holding Mikkel and Saoirse, and at the things she bought for them through the four years of their lives that she was with them, and I am sad for Ian that he has nothing that Grandma lovingly picked out for him. I am sad that she will never plant lipstick kisses on his forehead, or rock him to sleep after his bottle. But I am not angry. As Val said in her post, "It is what it is." I guess I feel so defeated that I don't have the energy to get angry. Again, "it is what it is"--and this is all bittersweet.

Val: It's been awhile. I am so sorry I have been out of touch. I didn't even know you were pregnant! I can't believe Carolyn will be a big sister. She's so lucky to have a little sister--Saoirse would be VERY jealous, although she certainly is her "Ian Bean's" favorite person by FAR. And, after seeing this post about your anxieties, fears, and apprehension towards so many changes, I again wish I could be there with you. I just have such a strong feeling that we would be inseperable while our husbands were gone! Stu will be gone for the one year mark of my mom's death. So...I need to buck up and be strong. Hey, I know my mom would want it that way... And again, I relate to your "new normal." I still find myself in situations where I am so angry, or excited about something, that I need to call and talk to someone, but no one is around. We have been looking for a new house, and I told Stu the other day that I feel like I need some guidance and advice from my mom, because she has always been there to help me with this kind of thing, but she's not here, and it's not natural for us to have to do something this big on our own. Congratulations on your baby girl, and again I am so sorry I didn't know sooner. What a beautiful blessing she will be. Thinking of you tonight...

Holly, I am so sorry I missed this yesterday. But I have been wondering the same thing lately: how has it been a whole year since Mom has been gone? I swear that on New Yea'rs Eve I kept looking at the clock, wishing I could push the time back. I did NOT want to see 2007, because it's a new year that I haven't seen my mom. Maybe it doesn't make sense. But soon I will have to say, "I lost my mom a year ago." And now I have to say "I lost my mom LAST YEAR." I almost feel like when Isay that, people will think, ok, so she should be moving on. Today marks 11 months since I lost her. And I still can't stop thinking things like, "When she comes back...will she recognize the twins...she doesn't know Baby Ian at all, and Ian doesn't know her...I have so much to tell her...when is she coming back to us?? Oh, Holly...I know about that hole too well. It was blown into me the night I woke up from a sound sleep to the phone ringing...before I even answered it. I so hope that you had a peaceful day yesterday. When we lost my stepdad to LC in 1999, I kept telling my mom that I was trying not to dwell on the day he died but a happy day, his birthday. God, what an idiot I am. I had such "words of wisdom" for her. Now, thinking about how I'm going to get through February 8th, the last day of her life, is enough to make me shake. Caroline is such a beautiful girl. What a miracle she is, just like I say about Ian, in every sense of the word. My mom kept his ultrasound picture in a book she was reading and looked at it constantly. We put it in her casket with her. I wish so badly she could have seen him. He LOOKS like her. But, remember this: Caroline has the same blood coursing through her veins that ran through your mom's. That's something I am very proud of, because my mom was such a wonderful woman, and I hope that my children grow to have her good qualities. My daughter, more and more lately, has been crying over losing her grandma. It just tears me apart. We went to midnight Mass, and I sat the whole time sobbing. I looked over at her, and asked her what was wrong. She said, "I miss Grandma." It's a hard thing to try to be strong for my 5 year old twins when I can barely hold it together some days. But I am also glad that they have memories of her forever. They kissed her goodnight every night and lived with her every day. It angers and saddens me that Ian will never know his grandma. It saddens me that Caroline was only held by her grandma a few times, and that she will never remember her touch or her face. Thinking of you across the miles, Holly, and wishing so badly right now that I could hug you.

There are just no words for tragedies like this I didn't have ID twins, so no TTTS but my daughter had IUGR and she was just 3lbs9oz compared to her brother's 6lbs8oz. I was so lucky she was strong and healthy, just too small for her gestational age. But I have many MANY friends with ID twins who had TTTS issues. Some made it, others did not. I have not lost a child, but when I had my miscarriages, especially when I lost my daughter Brigid, I longed for people to recognize that I had lost a baby and call her by her name. One thing I realized is how different the pain is once you have had children already. Not worse or better, mind you; just different. So, telling them that you're there for them is one thing, but acknowledging his life and existence is so important. Personalizationmall.com has ornaments you can customize; I did one in memory of my mom with the year she was born and the year she died. Something with the baby's name on it would be very touching. Or you could make a donation to tttsfoundation.org in his name. And every year on his birthday, remembering him would touch his parents so deeply. Peace be with that family during this terrible time. I can relate to how hard it is to bring a life into the world when you're grieving the loss of another. My mom died 26 days before Ian was born, so she never knew him.

Stephanie, As a 33 year old woman who lost her mom ten months ago, three weeks before I gave birth to my son, I can tell you that when my mom was diagnosed I spent a lot of time in paralyzing fear of losing her. She remained positive throughout her treatment, but I was panicky, sad, overwhelmed, fearful...all of it...pretty much all the time. So I simply cannot tell ANYONE to remain positive, stop dwelling on statistics, and count their blessings while they can. As I said, I had my son three weeks after I lost my mom. We knew things were bad, and I FEARED she had little time, but she told me she was going to see the baby, and when she said she was going to do something, I never doubted her, because she had a LOT of pain and turmoil in her life, and always was able to overcome it somehow. I just knew that our time was short with her, and after he was born, she may not have much time. When she died BEFORE he was born, it was like it really didn't happen. Looking back, I can say that I spent about three months in complete shock, and the night she died I am told I kept telling her to WAKE UP and stop this. The shock, I believe, is what got me through--it is a protective barrier of sorts--but it also numbed me of the experience of giving birth to Ian, and I swear to this day I remember little of the details of his birth. I am forever robbed of those memories. But...having said of of THAT...what I can say is that the one and only thing that I realized in the early days following my mom's death, is that the ONLY thing that made me smile were my kids. I have twins who just turned 5 and about two days after I lost my mom, one of them said something funny while I was in bed (I was on bedrest throughout my pregnancy) sobbing, and it hit me that they would be the light to guide me through my life just as they were such a light in my mom's life. Having my mom live with us since 2003, I saw how they were really the reason why she kept going every single day. And now, I have Ian, who is a miracle in EVERY sense of the word, and he can ALWAYS put a smile on my face. In my heart of hearts I know that God knew He was going to take my mom from me, and gave me Ian to soften the blow. When I found out I was pregnant with him, all I could think about was, "I can't do this, it is the wrong time, my mom needs me." But every time I would get an ultrasound, she would sit and look at that picture, and show it to everyone, she was so proud. Today, I won't deny that it is VERY hard to look at my kids and see them changing and growing, and know that my mom isn't here for all of it. She never met Ian, and he is so beautiful and happy she would just melt. Every single day I look at them and think, "Oh, wow, she's missing this." And it drives me crazy that I can't run and tell her. But in the end, they are what make me smile, and keep me going, and I know for a fact that she would want that. I do have bad days (in fact, with Christmas coming, a LOT of bad days, I have realized) and what is hard is that I can't control when they are or when I can sit down and cry, or when I need to push it out of my head and move on. And all in all, who IS strong enough to handle this? I certainly am not. But I can say that I have learned to "use" people around me in different ways to help me grieve. They all have different roles in my eyes to help me get through. For example, my best friend wanted to be the one I ran to and cried on her shoulder, but I wanted my husband to be that person. I wanted my BF to be the one who took my mind off of it. I told her so, and she has been great ever since. And the nights when my daughter comes in my room and is crying, when I ask her what's wrong, and she tells me, "I miss Grandma," I can hug her and talk to her, and know that I am so blessed to have her--and all of my family and friends--to help guide me through the grief process. It's the hardest thing I have EVER EVER done, I won't deny that. I want to wake up from the nightmare and have my mom back. The reality of "forever gone" is sometimes so harsh it feels like someone is strangling me and cutting off my air supply. Sometimes the need to feel her around me is so intense I go into her room and start rummaging through her things wildly, hoping to find some letter, SOMETHING other than just the clothes or jewelry I have looked at so many times. The feelings are intense, but my cousin said something to me that I will never forget. "I look at the grief of my father's death as a GIFT, because it is a sign of how much we loved each other." How true this has become for me. I know how hard it is to focus on being positive. And no matter how much "pre-grieving" you do, it will never prepare you for it. But just know that there will be good things to come in life. It's something I am realizing slowly but surely.

I know how hard it is to hear all of the differing opinions. It makes your head spin wondering which could be the one that will or won't save your mom's life! I lost both of my parents to NSCLC, stage IIIB, but their tumors and the way they acted were completely different. They both had the same chemo (taxol/Carbo) and my dad did terribly, while my mom did wonderfully. I fully believe it was a combination of a lot of things, not the least of which were attitude (my dad's was poor, my mom's was great) and the way the chemo was given (they mixed my dad's, and he was miserable from the start, and with my mom, they gave the two separately, with other drugs to combat symptoms). We went to Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Zion, (I live in the Chicago burbs) for my mom, and had a wonderful experience there. You absolutely MUST trust your doctors and feel they are doing all they can to combat this thing. Any doc who said your mom would not be here in five years would be looking at the back of my head in a matter of seconds. That, in my opinion, is very disrespectful. I wish you the best of luck, and many good days ahead. Your new marriage should not be saddened by this grief.