This is a continuation from my previous post. I am sharing a letter that my Mom wrote in the 1970’s. It contains some of the essence and spirit that continues within our Family.
I pulled out this letter, when I first heard that my Mom had her stroke. Living so far away, there wasn’t much I could do. I knew we had been through tough times and I wanted to believe she could make it through this. My Mom is doing better everyday. She has a strong support system within her community. I saw it first hand when I went back east to help out, while she was still in the hospital.
Friends and neighbors are still offering their support, meals and gifts to help her mental and emotional recovery. My Stepdad, knowing physical therapy is key, reconstructed the implements that the amazing therapy team had used with her at the hospital. My Sister and Brother are driving distance away, to help out. I am grateful for her community, my Stepdad, Sister and Brother for their ‘on the ground’ unwavering support. Mom - I LOVE YOU!
Being there to support my Mom in the hospital, on my birthday brought so many emotions, knowing what we had already been through.
Here is Part 2 of the letter written by my Mom . . .
“Early the next morning Mary’s Pediatrician stopped in my room. He explained that Mary’s esophagus was connected to her lung instead of her stomach. Anything taken by mouth would go into her lung drowning her, instead of going the normal channels into her stomach. Surgery would have to be preformed as soon as possible. Despite her size the Doctors decided that it would be necessary for Mary to undergo the surgery at once. I was told that she had a 50-50 chance and not to get my hopes up. I felt empty. I waited in my room on the maternity floor at the hospital. I could not think and nothing seemed real at this point. Right outside my door there were rooms full of healthy babies, each a miracle, even more so to me, because my baby was fighting for her life right now, and the worst part was there was nothing I could do to help but pray.
Tom waited at Children’s Hospital while Mary was in surgery. Finally my phone rang. It was Tom, Mary had survived the surgery and it had gone well. Now once again, all Mary needed was time. She was kept in the Intensive Care Unit and all of her vital signs were monitored continuously. Everyone who went down to see Mary at Children’s would report to me on how she was doing and I called the nurses often. They all told me that Mary was a beautiful baby and was doing fine. I could not wait to see her. I needed her and I felt she needed me. This was not a natural seperation and my mothering instincts were so strong. I missed my baby. Finally I was released from the hospital. Tom picked me up and we went directly to Children’s.
I did not know what to expect. We went into a large bare room; it was cluttered with hospital supplies and there were two or three incubators and a couple of cribs. A nurse came up to us. She recognized Tom and took us over to Mary. I looked at her, I wanted to say she was beautiful, but, the words stuck. Here was this tiny little baby with wires and tubes all over her, her head was shaved and she was bare. I felt all of the nurses watching me. I could not react. I wanted to leave. Then the nurse opened the incubator and told me that I could touch Mary. I reached in and I held her little hand; it was warm and she moved ever so slightly. I began to see through the wires and tubes - she was beautiful.
After our visit to Children’s we went to my parent’s house to pick up Elisabeth. It was so refreshing to see her - so healthy and happy - so different from what we had been surrounded with in the hospital. We packed up Elisabeth and headed home.
It was good to get home, but I had never thought that when we returned home it would be without our new baby. Her room was ready for her after months of preparation- the little bassinette - the fresh clothes and diapers - so full of all her needs, but, without our Mary it was empty.
We had been home for about a week. We kept in touch with Children’s, checking on Mary’s progress. She was coming along slowly. Every ounce she gained meant that she was closer to coming home. She had begun taking small amounts of liquid by mouth but was getting most of her nourishment through a tube in her stomach.
I was starting to get my strength back and was feeling so much better. However; my stomach was still quite big and firmer than it had been after my first pregnancy. It did not concern me at first, but, after a couple of days I decided to check with my Obstetrician. He was reassuring when he told me that it often takes longer after a second baby to get back in shape. I waited a couple more days and my intuition told me something was not right.”