Saturday, August 11, 2012

Friday Night

I really miss Friday nights.  I miss looking forward to a weekend and my family's Sunday night dinners to cap it off.  This is one of those posts where you want to walk away if you are not really in the mood to hear my gut level, brutal honesty.

I am always very honest in what I say and share, but usually I am not as ugly as I was yesterday.  In the same breath I think some of our ugliest are our most beautiful.

After working Wednesday night, I slept a whole two hours and headed to the city to be with my mom.  New place, new doctors, new plans. I needed to know what was going on.  We have also been trying to take turns staying with her over night since that was previously when she would have a ton of anxiety and panic attacks.  So I stayed over night and didn't sleep much at all.  Partly because they had removed the IV's from the cath lab and had to check the site often for six hours, and partly because I was trying to sleep in two chairs pushed together.

It didn't really matter to me that I wasn't sleeping.  I wanted and needed to be with my mom.  I tried to wait as long as possible to hear as many consults as possible before I left on Friday, but I needed to head back to the last hospital to pick up medical records before business hours were over.  Since governmental offices have no sense of urgency, I thought I would just fax them myself to get the ball rolling.

I know I'm pregnant, and I know I need to take care of myself.  No need to tell me again friends.  But really, if that was your mom in that bed, you would do the same thing.

So by the time I got home yesterday, my emotional, physical, and spiritual reserves were low.  My plan was to nap for two hours and then go see some friends.

Tears come pretty easily to my family and I as of late.  When my mom and I were just sitting in the hospital yesterday we scrolled through all of the new pictures I had added to the blog.  We talked about how grateful we are and we let the tears roll.  They rolled a lot harder when my mom saw one of her best friends from Indiana blowing her a kiss, or her little love Gavin made a sign for his BFF.  Then we did the ugly cry together.  I've become OK with the ugly cry.

Once I finally laid down in my bed I started dozing.  But then my super well-intentioned husband came and pulled the bedroom door closed.  You know, so I could actually sleep.  I yelled out for him to open it back up because I didn't want to feel like I was all by myself, and the tears started.  He sat with me and I rocked what I thought was the ugly cry.  I expressed my deep level fears about having my mom so far away, and being scared about the fact that if something big happened I don't trust that I would be called right away to make sure her wishes are carried out.  I cried about just how scared I am about all the options on the table.  I cried about how I want to run away and pretend none of this is happening. And then I cried harder when I said I wanted to run away with my mom and she has no chance at escaping this, even for a few hours.

I thought crying was supposed to bring you some relief.  So after I caught my breath from crying all the tears I thought I had, I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep.

Instead I think I experienced the true ugly cry for the first time in my life.  The cry where your body shakes and you are grateful that you were already laying in bed, because otherwise I surely would have broken a bone as I collapsed on the floor.  The cry where you are grateful that your husband is home and holding you close or there would be a good chance that you could have suffocated on your own snot.  The cry where you are sure you are going to pass out because breathing is no longer and option, all you can do is let the tears fall and gasp for air as you mentally scream at God that this all sucks.

While I am so grateful for all the prayers and support, I couldn't find rest in peace or comfort.  I know God is big enough.  I know he is in control.  But at the end of my rope, all I could do was cry.  Cry as my heart breaks for my mom.  Cry as my heart breaks for my sisters.  Cry as my heart breaks for everyone else that loves my mom. Cry as my heart breaks for everyone else in the ICU.  Just cry.

Today will hopefully be a better day.  I have to work tonight and can't go down to visit my mom.  But there are other people that love her that are able to go.  So I will try to rest and sleep away the afternoon, and I will look forward to visiting her tomorrow with Jon.  I will continue to let the tears fall as they come, because even after my true ugly cry, I just feel weepy and overwhelmed.

Thank you for your continued prayers and encouragement.  Thank you for allowing me to trust in the fact that when I no longer have the strength to ask for miracles, someone else in the world is.  Thank you for allowing me to trust that as I scream at God, someone else is still able to thank him for my mom's life.  Thank you for letting me fall apart, because right now I am truly a hot mess.

If you are still planning on writing my mom a letter, please do so by Wednesday August 15, so that I can print them all.  The original plan was to read some to her, but until we figure out a plan, I am not sure that I will be able to coordinate that. If the plan is to move forward with another open heart, we would like to do it as soon as possible. Apparently there are a few options on the table, even though we thought there was only one.  So I am hoping that by the beginning of this week we will know more and be able to feel more peace about everything.

Thank you for your pictures and letters thus far.  It truly means the world to us.  Thank you for loving us.



  1. Sometimes you just need to ugly cry and get it out of your system. In these situations there is little control over what you can do to fix it or make it better (I mean besides the power of prayer) and it just seems so big and overwhelming and you want to scream out. That's when the ugly cry happens where it seems you'll never stop crying again. Let it out. Hopefully you'll find some peace today and if you need to...cry some more. Sending lots of prayers for your mom and family.

  2. Dear Jaci....Praying for a miracle for you and yours. All of this is so frightening and tears sometimes give a little relief. Tell your Mom she's in my thoughts constantly and that I love her. Love you also for being such a wonderful daughter. Nancy is truly blessed.

  3. Hi Jaci

    I am so overwhelmed with what I have read about your Mom's condition. Though Nanc and I drifted apart over the years, she's has always had a spot in my heart and will always be a part of my family. I look back over the good times we had when you and your sisters were little and all the things we did way back then. When I saw her at ABMC I never dreamed that she would have to go thru all of this. Please give your Mom all my love. She's in my prayers as are you, Ally and Erica. Take care of yourself. Love, Aunt Mary Lou

  4. Jaci,
    I found your blog through kellyskornerblog and I want you to know I am praying for your mom, Nancy, and the rest of your family. My heart aches for you because in some ways your story is similar to mine. I lost my mom when I was 35 weeks pregnant and she, too, was in and out of the hospital and had many procedures etc. I can understand your pain. I can relate to your words. I will continue to pray for you all. Take care.