Passing

Last night at 11:35 pm, my mother passed away in her sleep. We were told on Tuesday she was only days away from her death and this was so. I feel very sad and relieved. In the last week my mom was very uncomfortable in a lot of pain when awake. This is all almost over. Matt is flying in tomorrow morning; the celebration of life will be Sunday afternoon; and we'll return to Wenatchee on Wednesday. I feel like I blinked and it ended, and I feel like the last month slowly creeped along.

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Arlo 6 1/2 weeks

Shit has a Silver Lining Too

After all the shit that I have been through in this past month I still developed THRUSH on my nipples! Yes, it is a minor case because I caught it early enough, but it is still there and one more thing I have to deal with and worry about. Now, it seems that Arlo has a little cold too. Aaaaaaahhhhahahahaah! (Did you detect the slight crazy-laugh amongst the insane screaming?)

However, shit has a silver lining too and all this has brought me to the Unitarian Universalist Church. I took the boys and went to a service this morning. It was just what I needed. The level of spirituality was perfect, the music and meditation was relaxing and the community was very open and I felt very comfortable there. I look forward to the service next week. Sam loved the nursery school and I ran into an old friend from high school. If you have never been and find yourself needing a spiritual outlet...it is a good place to try. Don't get wrong, I am not going to become a UU worshiper, but I needed something to help me deal with loosing my mom in a spiritual way. I found it and I am glad.

I will post soon with an update on the boys with some pictures. It seems they have both had a growth spurt recently and Arlo is now 15 pounds!

Progress

After a particularly rough day all around (*see below*), Sam put himself to sleep after our usual bedtime routine! I was so happy and relieved as I took this as a sign that he has adjusted to being here and our new daily doings. I, for the first time in almost 3 weeks, was able to stay awake after he went to bed and had some time with Arlo in the ergo asleep, to myself!

Yesterday my mom had a strange, disoriented afternoon. She spoke about some weird things like wanting to eat a "circle of ribbons" for dinner and needing to wear a "circle of pants". She has started wanting to make lists of things, but can't write. I handed her some paper and a pen today and she returned it with scribbles, thinking it was a list of supplies. She tried to help me fold laundry yesterday and could not even fold a simple small towel. Her blood pressure was alarmingly low. These are telltale signs of her body shutting down.

My spirits are higher today after talking with a few friends in Washington last night and getting out with my uncle and the boys for over 3 hours today. The sun is already setting, but Arlo is napping and Sam is playing at a new friends house so some time to myself feels REALLY good.

Icing on the Cake

I have been trying to find some good in the middle of all of this saddness and here are some of the things I have thought of and try to remind myself of every minute...

1. I am fortunate to have this time with my mother. So many people loose loved one without notice. I am able to spend the last bits of time with my mom and reflect on our life together.

2. I look for things for Sam and I to do together to try to keep his daily life as normal as possible. Yesterday we went for a hike in the woods without the baby. It was really nice. I will always remember it. On Monday we'll begin a parent-toddler gymnastics class.

3. I am spending a lot of really great quality time with my sister and she is getting some great quality time with the boys.

However, the icing on the cake is that Arlo has developed colic. I am doing all the things you do to avoid colic....and it isn't as bad as it could be...but it is bad when it is on! And why now? My strength as a mother, as an emotional woman is being tested. I feel like yelling, "what more can be thrown at me?"

Today my mom told me she wanted me to shoot her in the head...that is what can be thrown at me.

Owie-house Now Owie-home

Last Wednesday as we drove to the hospital in Portland for the last time, Sam saw the large building on the hill he recognized and said, "owie-house"! What a perfectly simple description of a hospital, an owie-house.

On Thursday, my mom was transported by ambulance to our 200+ year old home in Friendship, Maine. We set up a hospital bed in the living room by the old french doors looking out into the wintery woods. She is surrounded by old photographs and flowers, family and friends...as we all watch her die. We live in an owie-home.

I feel like I am living a movie...the Maine winters are so ethereal...grasses all brown and trees bare...there is no place quite like it. It all looks so sad and yet so peaceful. I love looking out the wobbly glass in our old windows and seeing the trees sway in the wind.

I have been getting up early in the mornings and sitting with my mom while the house is silent and the boys are alseep. It is nice. Yesterday we talked some about her memorial service, raising kids, and life. She has said some really wonderful things and I am beginning to feel like I have communicated some of things I want her to know.

This is one of the hardest thigns I think I will ever have to go through.

Dying In Maine

The morning after my last post, Matt woke me in the hospital to tell me that my mother had another stroke, a heart attack and blood clots that moved into her lungs. She was being transferred to the ICU at Maine Medical Center...she could only have days to live.

That day our pediatrician decided to let us leave the hospital, Arlo was responding to the antibiotics and he could go on oral antibiotics and be fine, not ideal, but under the circumstances it would work. So we were discharged from the hospital and we flew to Maine. We have been here since Thursday morning.

My mother is dying in the hospital bed with tubes running all over. She is on heavy pain medication and is not lucid. I get very brief moments to talk with her and we have all of our family here and friends coming all the time to visit and say goodbye. Poor Sam is going nuts in the cancer wing of the hospital, I am losing my mind, but we all need to be strong for each other.

One minute she accepts that she is dying and the next she denies it. She can't remember a morning conversation in the afternoon and she is stuck in this place that isn't alive and isn't dead.

The "plan" is to get her pain under control and get her home to die.

Arlo is crying so that is all for now.