Thursday, April 21, 2011

Roller coaster

So much is going on that I often don’t know how to feel anymore. And the raging hormones are probably not really helping either.

There are Tiny N’s little kicks – each and every single one of them making me so unbelievably happy.

There’s my mom’s illness – making me so sad I feel sick.

There’s the new job, causing stress.

It’s as if I’m on an emotional roller coaster – but I’m riding it on my own. No one seems to wonder how I’m doing it all, how I keep on going; pregnant, new job, and bad news. Yes, I feel pretty lonely. Every time I call a friend, it seems as if I’m calling at the wrong moment. Answering machine or no time to talk. Or when I do talk to them, I’m doing me very best to keep up appearances, and I just want to show the happiest side of myself. P is over his head in some project. I can’t show my mom how I’m feeling – I have to be there for her. The only one who calls me, and asks about me, about my mom, about the new job is…my mother-in-law. She seems the only one who’s aware of what’s going in my life right now. She remembers when my mom is in hospital, starting a new therapy – and she calls me to ask how it went. She hears the weather forecast and the pollen count, and calls me to see if I can still breath without antihistamines. And she seems the only one to realize what an effort it takes to start a new job in “my situation” (and even advised against it, but anyhow…).

Sorry for all the complaining, but I have to do it somewhere. I can’t keep up the happy face 24/7 as if everything is going great in my life. I’m afraid to loose one of the people I need most, I'm emotionally exhausted, and I very much need a break from it all.

Sunday, April 17, 2011


Mom seems to have turned a switch in her head. Maybe it’s some kind of coping mechanism, I don’t know.

“I’m feeling much better” she says. And I’m happy for her – but does she really “forget” that this is because they’ve started giving her daily doses of morphine?

“Oh, they’ve discovered another cancer lump in my neck. It’s blocking some artery, so there was a risk of blood cloths in the brain”. And she’s telling me this in the same tone of voice as “I’ve made you some chicken soup”. “But other than that it doesn’t do any harm” – okay, nice to hear that, mom.

This is followed by my dad silently telling me how she almost had a huge traffic accident at a railroad crossing after she heard the foresaid news; but clearly didn’t hear the very loud bell announcing the arrival of a train.

So yes, I’m worried. I know sometimes you have to pretend that everything is okay – just to keep on going, just to survive. Nobody can live with the idea of a deadly disease day-in day-out for three years in a row. Sometimes denial is a welcome friend.

Or maybe she just wants to spare me after my emotional crash of last week. The “Look, I’m happy and everything is okay – so you have to be happy too” – approach; in which my mom is highly qualified. But which isn’t working for me anymore. There’s my dad as well. On his own. Taking care of mom, and being there for every fall she takes. And from time to time, he has to spill it all out (however unlike him that is). So it happens that I hear about crying spells that last all night. About nerve-attacks for which only tranquilizers help. And yes, about escaping what could have been a deadly car accident on a railroad crossing.

Thursday, April 7, 2011


Every time I get some very bad news, I wonder how it’s possible that the world around me is just going on. The sun is shining, the weather is gorgeous, inside me there’s a small miracle happening…and yet, at these moments I wonder how such beauty can still exist. I feel as if it shouldn’t be allowed – as if it’s completely out of place, and not justified at all.

My mom’s scan results are not good. The cancer has conquered, once again. Last night, I dreamed about my grandmother. She came to me, and said I should prepare for the worst. I was very angry at her – but she stayed calm, and said “everybody dies, so will your mother. One day you’ll have to choose a coffin. You can’t be in denial – you have to face reality”.

I woke up, feeling so sick. And I knew I would get bad news today. After all, this grandmother also came to me in a dream the night she died – preparing me for the news I would get in the morning. So I knew. I knew before calling my mom at noon that it would be no good.

I don’t know how to get through this anymore. Especially not with his baby growing inside me. I want to be happy and enjoy this pregnancy. But how can I, with this huge dark cloud hanging directly above my head? I can’t help but asking myself “what have I done to deserve this” – although I know that’s a completely useless question.

I so badly need a break from this fight, that’s been going on for three years now. Hope that’s being crushed time after time. I’ d like to go to my mom now – but I simply can’t. I can’t be there for here, when I myself feel as weak and fragile as a dried leaf. I lack all strength – and I really can’t give her any hope today – as I haven’t got any myself. I can’t comfort her, when all I do is cry. I don’t know how to do this anymore, how to get through this again.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Just me in the morning

After living on my own for six years, and after numerous projects of P abroad, there's one thing I'm still not used too. One thing I hate. And that's being alone in the morning. Waking up in an empty house.
I don't care about the evenings, I'm not scared at night. No issues there. But that alarm clock going off, followed by the realization that there's nobody there but me....ugh.

The first year I lived in my flat, I used to call my mom every morning at 7. Next victim was a very good friend, who was stuck in traffic every morning anyway, so at least once a week, we had our morning rendez-vous on the phone. P was also on my morning-call list. And the radio had to be turned on the moment I stepped into the kitchen to ban the silence (I also had one in my bathroom).

Some habits have remained. Home alone means radio in the morning. Means calling someone at an ungodly hour. And lenghty breakfast-talks with the hamster if she's still awake.
One more morning to go - and then parents, friends and hamster can have quiet mornings again.

Friday, April 1, 2011

And it's a yes!

Yes - I took the job as language coordinator in the hospital, and today was my first day!
Turns out that after two sleepless nights (due to all kinds of pregnancy-related niceties), I was just too tired to be stressed.
Today was just "intro", as in : "oops, we have no office for you. Oh yeah, we need to find you a computer. And you already start today?!" There was a time I would get all wound up about this - now I think: cool, one day of getting paid without actually doing anything!
There's also the "challenge" of creating the job itself (it didn't exist before). So there's no hand-over, there's no "this has already been done". It's only "we want to achieve this". Let' see what miracles I can achieve in less than 5 months :-) . Without an office, and without any tools. :-) .
First on my list : a survey! Read : have chats with all the head nurses, get some numbers, and put all this information in a nice and readable report for HR. Maybe I can even go completely overboard, and  make some charts in Exel. And than present the whole thing in Powerpoint. (sounds like I became a consultant)

Anyway, it's Friday evening - I somehow made it through the day - and now all I want to do is sleep, eat and cuddle. I'm a happy person :-) .