A visit

it went...okay?

So, I went to see my mom. Who is now sick. And I still feel terrible.

I had to move my trip back twice—non-serious illnesses in my household that I couldn’t risk bringing to someone with not much of an immune system.

The delays were good, especially the first. Originally I was supposed to go the day after my husband got back from a two week trip, the latter part of which he was unreachable (which is when our child got sick.) I was so, so, so anxious about my visit. Our kid getting sick made it that much scarier, and I was so strung out and really wanted some low-key family time, our basic routine, husband where he normally is. As soon as I canceled I felt immense relief. For over a month I felt horrible pressure in my chest, like I couldn’t take in a full breath. My ribs hurt. The sick kid/delayed trip/return of husband all happened within 24 hours and for the first time I could fully inhale, and actually sleep.

There’s that. Then I got sick and had to delay again. Less of a relief, but still welcome.

My mom’s treatment was really, really rough at first. I won’t say much more than that—and still don’t know how much to say, or to whom—but things got better during the next rounds. By the time I saw her, her treatments weren’t making her sick and she didn’t need infusions. She didn’t need to go to the hospital or get IVs. We went on walks and did some normal stuff.

This was the first time I’d been alone with her since I found out about the donor thing. I didn’t question whether I’d go or not—of course I would. I never asked her if it was okay. I figured she could say no. Should I have asked her permission? I don’t know. I just showed up, in the literal sense (not that other overused sense of the phrase—which I get, but still hate.)

Once the unable to inhale phase ended, I was ready to go. Something happened and I felt really, really grounded, solidly in my body. I went in a particularly self-possessed and calm state. (Was it being sick before I went? Did it work as some sort of a cleanse?)

I didn’t watch her for a reaction. I tried to channel my sister-in-law—she is flawlessly considerate, ceaselessly calm. No snark here—she is just that way. I thought of how a houseguest would act—without the formality, though. I genuinely felt present and I wanted to be useful. Not as skittish as usual, not needing to escape.

So it was strange—or maybe made sense—that my mom was so reserved. It could be because she is sick. Though she acted differently when we were with other people. (Including my brother and said sister-in-law who overlapped with me by a few hours, arriving the evening before I departed.)

I sense that I make her uncomfortable. Even if I am gentle, attentive, steady, helpful. Being how I used to be—jumpier, more needy of space—would that have made things feel more normal? I truly don’t think so. Not that I would want to have felt, or even acted, that way.

My interpretation—and this may change in time—is that it is painful to be around me. I am a painful disappointment. I am painfully unappreciative and reactive. It could have, should have, been so different. This is not how it was supposed to be.

Now she is older, and is sick, and her firstborn has made a mess—me, who was always fussy and difficult—intelligent and creative—yes!!—but colicky, worried. I do feel bad that she has to deal with this now.

She’s not dealing with it now—I don’t think she can. But I can see the toll it takes on her to have me around, even though it might feel better than me being distant. I feel bad that she is suffering, from her illness and from what my discovery has brought to us. Brought us to?

I was able to be completely present, and felt—FEEL—so much love for her. And I still experience all the confusion, neediness, and anger that I have over the last year and a half. It is impossible not to have all these things at once, even if it would be easier for all of us if I could offload one or two.

More stories later—thanks for your patience with the lag time between posts.