Tuesday, October 4, 2011


Today is the 14 year anniversary of my mother's passing.  You would think after 14 years it would be easier, but here I am, up since 3 am thinking about it.  Last year I actually remember thinking to myself that things were getting better, and compared to the early years - well, at least I am not crying anymore.  But this year is a little hard again.

In a large religious extended non-birth-controlled family there is the mini-unit of my immediate family with only 2 well spaced children.  In the context of knowing she had endometriosis and finding a letter in my baby book that mentioned her infertility, I have my theories about the whole thing.  My father refuses to talk about any of it.  Would have been nice over the past few years to have her talk me through it.  Would have been nicer to have her now to talk me through this.

Aw crap.  Tears.  Darn hormones.

She did teach me a good lesson.  I remember clearly her pregnancy with my sister, and being a 5 year old - Well I remember being very verbal about how much I wanted a girl and not a brother.  Every time I said it she would just tell me that I should just pray for it to be healthy.

Several people have asked me along the way what gender I am hoping for, and I respond the way that I did when I was taught when I was 5. When I was 5 though, it was just a programmed response.  The depth to its meaning now is way beyond.  Its a weird connection when you realize that your mother went through the turmoil you are currently in and you have to somehow figure out how she felt without being able to ask.

Nothing good has ever happened in october.  In different years, it was the month she was diagnosed, it was the month her cancer came out of remission, and it is the month she died.  We have no happy memories in october - no family birthdays, anniversaries or celebrations as a distraction.  With the advent of breast cancer awareness month it is this amazing daily reminder of how much this disease has taken from me.  The pink ribbons on everything, the grocery store asking for donations, the walks, the commercials.  All just a little pick axe chipping away at me.

Don't get me wrong - anything that reminds women to go out and get their mammograms makes me happy.  (Its not a pure coincidence I changed my career or went into Women's health.) This campaign saves many lives on a yearly basis and it is completely worth it, and if I had more personal strength I would be out there with a pink-ribbon sign too.  The constant reminders in October are just a little poor timing on a personal level and are sometimes a bit tough.

So I need this to be an October with some good news.  Through these weeks of mental torture I need some courage and belief that I can have a healthy baby.

But right now, I just need my mom.


  1. Wow. I can't imagine how difficult this is. I'm so, so sorry you are going through this. All I can say is we're here for you.

  2. I'm sorry, and I'm praying this October brings some good news. Thinking of you and sending a hug!

  3. I very much understand where you are coming from. I lost my mother 14 years ago as well, and you are right it just does NOT get any easier. I know my parents struggled with IF too and I wish I knew what their diagnosis was if they ever got one. I suspect she had endo as well since it can run in families.
    Just remember, no matter what, she loves you and is proud of you.

  4. It's an awful disease that has robbed many of us of loved ones.

    I hope and pray you get some good news in October.

  5. I am so, so sorry. I can't imagine how tough October must be. Sending lots of love and ((hugs)).

  6. May October pass quickly for you...