Day 162: More questions than answers

What a week. My 9/19 client delivered her baby on 8/26. Very sick baby. Probably the most ill baby of any of my clients. It was hard and heartbreaking. But thankfully he seems to be making some slow progress towards getting well. Babies are amazing!

My 8/23 client still hasn't had her baby but thankfully she didn't have it today so I could go up and be with mom as she had her abdomen drained again. And I'm really glad I was there because I think I would have been the only one to notice the dramatic difference in the fluid color. All her previous procedures had fluid that looked sort of like cream soda. Today it was the color of cherry coke. It was dramatically different. Shockingly different to me actually.

And I've spent some time on the internet researching the fluid color from paracentesis and honestly what I'm finding isn't good. And I've stopped researching. I am going to call Hospice on Monday and find out what they say.

But in my head I already know all the answers. I can see mom's mental status declining. Sometimes it's hard to have a conversation with her because she just can't put together a sentence. And her memory is continuing to get worse. Today I mentioned what she was doing 37 years ago (it's Michael's birthday) and she had no idea what I was talking about. Dad had to fill in the blanks. And I'm noticing he does that a lot. He just fills in where mom doesn't remember. He is her memory. And today was somewhat monumental for me because it was the first time dad signed mom's consent form because she just can no longer sign her name. I guess as long as she was signing her own name, I felt like we were still moving along. But having dad do it today seemed like a step in a direction that I didn't want to take. And it almost seemed like dad didn't want to take it either.

So, I know I was supposed to be there. This whole week has been about being where I'm supposed to be. Going back to my previous blog...as I've let things go, they have just fallen into place.

But as much I was supposed to be there today...right now, I'm hurting. I have seen more than I wanted to see these past 162 days. I carry a lot with me that no one else carries. My mom doesn't remember her time in the hospital (thank goodness). I remember every moment. My mom doesn't really see these paracentesis procedures (although she feels it and no one else has experienced it from her side). I see the procedures. I see her wince when they put in the lidocaine with the long needle where they try to get deep enough to numb her as much as possible. I see her jump when the paracentesis catheter is inserted into the final spot. Sometimes I wake up with those thoughts appearing in my head in the middle of the night. I saw the difference in that fluid today. I would have been the only person who would have noticed it. And today I saw the procedure was more difficult. Harder to place. Harder to keep going. And I read people's faces and I could see things in the staff's faces that I didn't want to see.

I noticed today as I was driving up north that I've done this drive enough now to know which lane I should be in, where the potholes are, which lanes end, etc. It's one thing to drive it now and then, but today was one of those moments when I realize I've done it enough to instinctively know which lane to be in and when. My car needs a 60,000 mile check up that there is no way I can afford and I just have to believe that it's going to keep running the way it has because I need it to. It's a fantastic car and has taken very good care of me over the course of the last 4 years.

I'm finding myself waking more at night. For the first time in my life I took some homeopathic sleep remedies the other night because I just need to sleep. I need my brain to rest. I'm slow breathing. I'm meditating when I can. I'm reminding myself to let go. But my brain is on overdrive. Sleep has never been a problem for me, but this morning when Christopher woke me at 2:30pm because Jonathan's snoring woke him up, I could not for the life of me fall back asleep. I got Christopher resettled but I couldn't resettle myself. So, finally after an hour of lying in bed, I just got up. I worked out. I did my morning chores. And got my day started early. But sleep is important too. And mine just isn't coming the way it should these days.

As I mentioned at the beginning, my 9/19 client delivered this week. She was my only September client. Once my 8/23 client delivers (hopefully this weekend) that gives me all of September off. I need that. Although right now, I'm really, really hoping my 8/23 clients call me tonight. I need a beautiful, wonderful birth right now. I need a happy, healthy baby and happy parents. But I also have a very strong sense that I need some time off. I start school on Monday. I am very concerned I have bitten off way more than I can chew. But something has told me this is the time to do it, so I'm doing it. But I'm more than a little scared.

I'm more than a little scared about lots of things right now. And today elevated those feelings. I know I have to let it go. I know that. But right now. Right in this moment, I just can't. I have pictures of my mom's fluid three weeks ago and I took a picture today. I keep staring at them on my computer, looking into them, searching for answers. But they are probably answers I don't really want.

I just tried calling mom and dad and there was no answer. I'm assuming that means they went ahead and went out to dinner with Jim and Nancy. That would be a good thing. Mom and dad went to the casino this week too. That's good. Mom is enjoying things. That makes me happy.

But I'm losing her. Bit by bit. Memory by memory. Each small goodbye.

And today...right now, I just can't let it go. Because letting that go feels like letting my mom go in little steps and I'm just not ready. I know I most likely never will be. But tonight, I'm holding on tight because I just can't let go. I know I'm clinging to something that probably isn't there. But I just physically and mentally can't let this go. I am making marked improvement on the things I can let go in my life. But this just isn't one of those things. I feel like if I keep holding on, I can keep my mom here with just my will. I know that's unrealistic...but tell that to my heart. It won't believe you and it doesn't want to hear it. And so I keep holding on as tightly as I can. Because right now that's all I can do.