MomsGirl

Oh, Kim, I wish I could take away your regret and your pain. You are not alone. Now that it's over and we all have hindsight, it's so easy to go back and beat yourself up over what you did and didn't do. I do it every day...my mom's biggest fear in life was not being able to breathe, and she died of lung cancer. After her brain radiation she seemed okay and then she started to swell and feel pain. We kept thinking once she was able to start chemo again, all would be well. I remember the day she was taken away in an ambulance from her home, never to return - my sister and I had no idea that she was days away from losing her life, and we were trying to stuff chicken noodle soup down her throat and getting after to her to drink etc. She was almost mentally gone (I realize now) and so near death, and here we were making her get out of bed and use the bathroom, etc. I can't imagine the pain we put her through, knowing now how widespread her cancer had become in such a short time. Kim, this is something that will never be easy. We can only hope that we all come to terms with it someday. Your mother KNEW that you were doing your best for her, and she loved you for it. That fact that you were there with her, comforting her, speaks volumes. Hospice in and of itself is a journey of guilt, no matter what the circumstances. As humans, we are programmed never to give up our on precious lives or the lives of those we love. It's so hard... Writing this is therapeutic for me, b/c I still lose sleep over all of those little details. Please hang in there, I don't know what else to say. I hurt with you.

I think it also touched me b/c I have two brothers and two sisters and we were all very close to my mom. We would sit around in the hospital room and it was a lot like George's family - my brothers being eternally obnoxious, etc. Then when Mom was went into the hospice, and they thought she only had a few minutes left, we all stood around the bed and held her hands and stroked her head and cried and told her we loved her - that scene just brought it all back. I figured the person that wrote that had some experience with it, b/c it was very realistic... I don't think I could watch it again... For those of you that missed it and want to see it, you can go to ABC.com and click on Full Episodes. Pick Grey's Anatomy and it's the 1/18 episode....

Your post made me weep...I'm so sorry about your mom.

I'm so sorry to hear of your mom. And I do believe that your mom comes back to you in dreams to tell you things, I know mine has, many times. Take comfort in knowing you did the right thing and were a loving daughter...

Oh Sarah, I feel your pain. I feel that physical illness in my stomach. It's like being constantly haunted. But as others have said, your mom loved you. And you were there with her, by her side, loving her, when she left this world. What greater gift could she ask for...you are a loyal and loving daughter. Hang in there...

My thoughts and prayers go out to you on this night...

It just shows how she touched the people around her. How wonderful for you to hear that, especially during this hardest of times. I hate this disease, can I say that again? PS - My family got a chuckle through the tears at my mom's wake (abeit a hysterical one) b/c even the lady that works at my mom's favorite Hallmark store showed up in tears. My mom moved in so many circles, and was loved by all... There's no one like our moms...

The tears started for me when George was whispering to his dad to fight, and then the family was standing around the bed turning off life support...but when he said that line about existing in this world, he summed it all up for me and the loss of my mom. I can't believe you posted about this tonight, Val. I had missed the last part of the episode and I just watched the rest tonight on ABC's website. I've been feeling kind of silly b/c it is only a TV show and it was so meaningful to me, but that hit right in the gut...

Hey Nick, I think it's important to have the timeline - it's the first thing I look at when a newer member has posted. I think it really helps me relate to a person in many ways, to know their background of experience, etc., especially when there are personal comments in the timeline, like in yours. In some ways it can be a tribute or somewhere you can express love for your lost one. I never really thought of taking it off, or as an obituary...I don't know if that's right or wrong either. I always feel a bit lost when I read someone's post and there's nothing but a signature, but maybe that's just me. I think to each his own, whatever their comfort level allows them. So in short, I vote for the timeline....

First I want to say you guys are great. I posted a few days ago and the responses I got were so comforting. You guys really know what I'm going through, and I thank you for giving me some sense of normalcy... I think I had a breakthrough today, in the sense that I realize when things get bad for me. Specifically, it's when I go to my parents' house (to see my dad). If my sisters are there with me, I'm pretty okay, but when I'm alone with my kids and/or husband, I just lose it. Before my mom got sick, I would take the kids there at least once a week and we would have a blast - my mom would bake brownies with my son, she'd take the kids in the backyard and let them dig in her garden, she'd cook a wonderful dinner for them and always tuck them into the van with a treat to eat on the way home. After she got sick and started chemo, the kids would run in the house and go right to the Purell bottle before they ran up into my mom's open arms. Gotta keep the germs away from her! We were all so close. That whole house is such a reminder of her. There's not a room in it that allows me to escape the memories - it's like she went to the store and never came back - everything is HER. I went today and my dad had all the Christmas decorations/stuff piled up in the family room, for my sisters and I to go through and take. He also had out a lot of her cookware and tupperware and stuff like that out. I just looked at it all and fell apart. My dad's upstairs yacking to my husband about the new sports car he got and I'm downstairs coming apart at the seams. I went to get the baby to feed him, and I took him upstairs to find a comfortable place...my old room? Nope, too many memories. How about the room with the crib my mom so lovingly set up? God no, too painful. My parents' room? Sitting on the bed feeding the baby, looking at her dresser with her perfume and pictures and knick knacks from her grandchildren? And the chair that she would force herself to crawl out of bed and sit in when she was at her sickest...the one the paramedics lifted her out of when she left the house for the last time in an ambulance? I finally opted for her room and just dealt with it. While we were there, I ran out to the bridal store with my three-year-old daughter to try on a flower girl dress - my niece is getting married in March and my mom could not WAIT. It was one of her goals when she was sick. Even that trip to the store was an ordeal, looking at my daughter twirling around in the mirror in her gown and saying, "Mommy, would Nana think I'm as beautiful as a princess?" Then on the way home I heard "You Got a Friend" on the radio and cried at how it mirrored my mom's devotion to me and to all of the people she loved. "You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I'll come runnin'..." My mom did that many times in my saddest hours...I would call her, and she would unquestioningly jump in the car and come to me. She got me through some rough times.. and I tried to do the same for her, in the last year. But I feel like I never got a chance to repay her for all she did for me...I couldn't save her in the end. Once again, I could go on and on about her, but I'll stop now. Thanks everyone, for listening. I wish you peace and some comfort, whenever you can grab it...

I'm so sorry for the loss of your mom. I found that at this time, you go on autopilot and get through it...my thoughts and prayers are with you.

Don- That's the beauty of this board - everyone understands when you are not up to posting and you just need prayers and support. You have mine...

Hi everyone- Is it just me...or is the other shoe never going to drop? My mom has been gone almost six months, and I feel like I'm just living my life, going along and raising my kids like I have to...and STILL pushing away the reality of life as it is now. Every time I imagine the REST OF MY LIFE without my mom, I just can't face it. I know the truth and finality of it in my head, but it's so hard to accept. I can't BELIEVE that I can't pick up the phone and call her, that I will never see her again. I took my baby boy to his two-month checkup and as I was driving out of the parking lot I actually picked up my cell phone to call my mom and report all the fun stats - how much he'd grown, how brilliant and advanced the doctor said he was..all that stuff that I would tell my mom after one of my kids' checkups. I can't put my emotions into words, they are so messed up. I feel like everything's just stuffed in a little box inside of me and once in a while I let a little leak out, but for the most part I just put off the true pain. At the beginning I was numb, then after the funeral I had nightmares and cried when I would even talk about my mom, and now I'm in this state of suspended animation. I also find myself obsessing over all the things we could have done differently for my mom, all the things I think the doctor did wrong, all the timing of everything, etc. Am I crazy? I feel like I'm perched on the edge of a cliff sometimes, especially when I lay down to go to sleep at night...the pain is so hard to face, and I'm so angry...

Nick, I have so much I want to say, but I don't know how to say it... First, I'm sorry about what just happened with Keri... As I've said before, I was pregnant with my third child when I lost my mom. And I have so many levels of anger and grief, I guess. I would never compare having had her there briefly for my kids to not having her at all...but they are young (6 and 3) and were so close to her, and the reality is they will probably never remember the magical relationship they shared with her. It was like a big tease, and then she was snatched away from us. Then there's the grief of her not knowing my new baby, of him not knowing her...ever. I know that you are numb and angry, and I sure don't blame you. I guess all I can say is that it is hard to project how you will feel when you are Keri become parents...but I hope - no, I know - that when you DO become a father, that your little son or daughter fills up some of that hole in your heart. No matter how much love you think you may have for him/her...you will still be surprised at the tidal wave of absolute love, joy and devotion you will feel at the moment you become "Daddy". And yes, there will be pain mixed in with that love, and it will always be there. My husband lost his mom 10 days after we got married - the last time we saw her was at the wedding and we had no idea how sick she was. She would have loved our kids, and vice versa...and I know my husband thinks about that a lot. I'm babbling, but I just want you to know that you DO have such joy in store for you in your future, as hard as it is to believe now. I'm sitting here writing this feeling like a hypocrite because I miss my mom so much I want to scream...but my kids are helping me get through, and that is what my mom would have wanted... Your mom would be so proud of you right now, and I pray that my sons are as devoted to me when they grow up as you were to your mom. It's all a mom asks for and wants of her children, their love, and you obviously gave her that in her life. She was a lucky woman and did a good job raising you... Hang in there...

Lori - my thoughts are with you on this night. Hang in there...

What you said, "she was my audience"...that touched me beyond words and hit home. Yes, yes, yes...our moms tell us all that stuff that no one else does (at least convincingly)...the last time I saw my mom before she got very bad, she asked if I'd done something different with my hair (I had)and complimented me on how flattering my shirt was (I was six months pregnant!) Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry you are going through this. I know it is like losing your conscience and your touchstone. Married, unmarried, kids or no kids...no matter how many people you have close to you and around you, no one knows you like your mom. You are her daughter, and you always will be. I hope that you remember that in the upcoming days. She made you what you are, and she does live inside of you. Having said that, I know the pain you are feeling so well, and yes, it just sucks and hurts and it's totally unfair. And it's unreal. Know that I am thinking of you and sharing in your grief...

Kim, Your post took my breath away and sent a pain right to my heart. It brought everything back and I am so, so sorry you are going through this right now. There are no words....

Everything you are experiencing is so normal - I posted about the same feelings five months ago right after I lost my beloved mom to SCLC. Her experience with SCLC very much mirrored your own mom's, and I felt such pain in my heart when I read your post that you had lost her. Like you, when I lost my mom I was NUMB. I remember standing at the wake and actually caught myself chitchatting and sometimes laughing at things people said. It was surreal. You are in survival mode, and in no way should you feel guilty about this - it truly is nature's way of getting you through this. You go on autopilot. I also was worried about breaking down in the future...I was six months pregnant when I lost my mom and I knew I had to get through this pregnancy and deliver a healthy baby - I had a goal. A few weeks after the funeral I started having some massive breakdown episodes, but they were spaced far apart. For the most part I remained in survival mode until very recently (the baby is now eight weeks old). So I can't lie, the pain will hit you, and at the most unexpected times...and yes, it will probably get worse when things settle down. Could be a month, could be six months. I'm starting to consistently have a very hard time right now, actually...I'm bitter, I'm devastated, I'm thinking of what I could have done, I'm mad at the doctors, etc. Make sure you talk about it, whether it's here, or with friends, family etc. My sisters and I e-mail and call each other often to share our pain. But even doing that, I feel so lonely sometimes. I just want my mom... Don't be hard on yourself, you have experienced a life altering loss, and that's why you're here - and I'm so sorry. I still find myself in a sort of denial...I don't know when the pain of thinking about it will lessen. It flat out sucks and it's so damn unfair. When I am really down, I try to think of what my mom would want for me, and I know it wouldn't be this pain, she would want me to go on...but it's hard. My prayers and thoughts are with you...it sounds like you were a wonderful daughter and I hope that you take great comfort in that...

Laura, your last line really hit home - last night after midnight I cried harder than I'd cried in a while. I thought the same thing you did - our first year without my mom. And a small part of me felt like leaving 2006 behind was like leaving HER behind. It was so sad. Hang in there...

Gwen, my heart goes out to you...

Hi everyone- I've been MIA from this board for awhile - having a newborn and two other kids in the house leaves me little time for anything else (including thinking too much). A blessing? Maybe- I'm still convinced this baby is here for a reason.... My two sisters and I went to Arlington Cemetery this morning and put a wreath on Mom's grave - we attached ornaments the kids made and also a "Mom" ornament. Just looking at the wreath sitting under her name on the stone - my sister said "Did you ever think we'd be HERE on Christmas Eve?" and we all burst into tears. My mom LOVED Christmas like no one I know...she made it special for everyone. In 40 years, I've never gone a Christmas without going to my parents' house and eating my mom's Christmas cookies, and watching her pass out presents to all the kids and grandkids. We are going this year, but it will be unreal without her there. Nick, I read your post about mortality. Suddenly I feel it. It's so strange and disturbing. The feeling of not having a mom is inexplicable. The pain...oh, the pain. My mom was going to be one of those hip, cute little 85-year-old women, taking care of the younger ones in the retirement community, running all over the place. She barely sat down when she was alive, and to see this illness take her life (in every way) was heartbreaking. It's like I'm still sort of in this denial phase - when the thought that I will never see her again pops into my head, I push it far away. Too painful...last Christmas we didn't even know she had cancer, and this Christmas she is gone. SCLC is the most evil, insidious disease...I try so hard every day not to be bitter. But it's hard... I guess I just want to reach out to everyone out there and send you my thoughts and prayers during this holiday season. I'm thinking of all of you...

Rochelle, I'm so sorry you have to be on this board...I have been in your shoes and I can't really come up with any words of comfort on your loss, but I send you my deepest sympathies and the strength and prayers to get through this... Hugs.

It never seems to end - I'm so sorry....

I agree, it would have been nice to just go away...I fought not to have our T'giving at my parents' house..and lost. My sisters were adamant. It was so hard. My dad drank too much wine and was pretty perky until it was time to say Grace...he started crying and asked God to keep Mom warm this winter and other morbidly sad things. Thinking of you today, of everyone here that lost someone to this terrible and merciless disease. You did what your mom would have wanted and got through it...

Oh Val, I can so relate. Every day there is something I need to ask my mom. My sisters and I were tearing our hair out last week trying to figure out how my mom made her stuffing and where to buy the rolls she always got. Last Thanksgiving is when we noticed Mom was feeling run down...and this Thanksgiving I sat next to her empty place at the table with my two-week old baby in my arms. It was surreal. This next month will be especially hard on all of us with the holidays...hang in there. Big hugs.