MicroblogMondays: Too Late

Microblog_Mondays

My grandma passed away yesterday.

This was my mom’s mom.  My brother was the first grandchild in the family and this grandma took care of him the first few years of his life while my mom was at work.  The two of them had a close bond that none of us subsequent grandchildren had.  I grew up with my paternal grandmother instead.  My maternal grandmother had a stroke not too long ago and was becoming very sick.  I never developed the closeness with her like my brother did, but knowing that the end of her life was near, I desperately wanted to let her know that her great grand-babies would be coming later this year.

Because of how sick my grandma was, my brother flew to Asia to spend time with her.  That was the day after our 8 weeks 5 days scan.  I had given him the task of sharing our pregnancy news with grandma if her recovery from her stroke allowed her to understand his message.  My brother and I spoke on the phone after he arrived and visited with her.  She was simply not lucid enough to have a meaningful conversation at that point with him.  I told him to tell her if he found a good time.  After we hung up, I broke into tears.

Since then, my heart would skip a beat whenever the phone rang or a text message came.  I was afraid that it would be bad news about my grandma.  Saturday night while I was having a good time at a friend’s birthday party, I was totally unaware of my grandma being at the end of her life.  My mom’s text in the middle of the night revealed that grandma breathed her last breath on earth and had passed.  I woke up in the middle of the night and saw the message.  The initial calmness was followed by incredible sorrow in my heart.  Tears kept coming down while I lay in the dark.  It felt like a part of me had left with the death of my grandmother.  When she was pregnant with my mom, the egg that made me was already formed inside my mom as a fetus in my grandma’s womb.  How amazing life is that I originated from her.  And now she has left permanently from this earth, my heart is broken.  I cried uncontrollably at various times yesterday thinking about her and how her life ended.

Grandma and I don’t have anymore time on this earth together.  Last October when I visited was the last time I saw her.  My brother encouraged me saying that instead of being sad about not being able to see her again, I should feel comforted that we did spend time together not too long ago.  But to me, it’s too late now as our babies will never meet their great grandmother.  She had no knowledge of them while she was still on earth.  Infertility has robbed us of many things.  If we had been able to get pregnant earlier, then my grandma would have had a chance to meet our child(ren) or to have the joy of knowing their existence.  This lost opportunity highlights how unfair this journey could be.  Many things on this earth are beyond our control, especially life (creating a baby) and death (loved one’s passing).  I know I will eventually be okay, but today I mourn the loss of my grandmother and the impossibility of my children being in the embrace of their maternal great grandmother.

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19 thoughts on “MicroblogMondays: Too Late

  1. When people ask me what the hardest thing about infertility is, it’s this. It’s not the time that *I* lost with my child (although that’s not a picnic in the park either) It’s the time that my loved ones have lost. I find myself very jealous of children who have a relationship with their great-grandmother, and memories, because that’s what my child was deprived of.
    I wish I could tell you it’s a thing that goes away, but it doesn’t. But I can tell you that for me it’s created a greater sense empathy for people who are in a state of loss or grief. A deeper understanding of what it means to lose those together moments.
    I’m so, so sorry for your loss.

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  2. I am so very sorry to hear of your grandmother’s passing. This was one of our biggest struggles when my husband’s sister passed away. She never got to meet our potential children and we just knew she would be the best aunt. We found peace in thinking though that she was now taking care of all of our babies in Heaven and eventually we would all be together again. ❤ (HUGS) to you my dear!

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  3. So very sorry for your loss Isabelle ❤ I do empathize, as my Mother passed before I met and married Mr. MLACS and she'll never hold BG…it's a bitter pill to swallow. But I do believe that my Mother is a guardian angel, that she watches over my family, sharing in our joy and comforting in times of sorrow. In my mind, I imagine your Grandmother as an angel watching over your babies, loving and protecting them in a way that she couldn't in life on earth, and I hope you find comfort in that thought. ❤ hugs ❤ XOXO

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  4. I’m so sorry for your loss. I felt exactly the same as my maternal grandmother died 2 years before N was born and I still often miss her now. I think she knows and sees her from where she is now. Lots of love to you at this horrible time xxx

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  5. I’m so sorry. This happened to me also with my grandpa. He supported and encouraged me all through my infertility but died less than a year before I got pregnant. It was so discouraging. I know we will all be together in heaven someday and I imagine he is there now holding the babies I lost. Much love to you.

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  6. I am so so sorry for your loss and that infertility has robbed you of yet another life moment. This post was beautifully written and I could palate your pain and sorrow. Sending you love and hugs, and your family is in my thoughts.

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  7. I’m so sorry for your tremendous loss. I’ve been deeply missing my mother of late and grieving how much my living children are missing by never getting to meet her or she them. You are right – this cruel process steals so much from us and the loss of time with loved ones is a huge and difficult piece of that.

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  8. I’m so sorry, we lost Tony’s grandma in the midst of infertility and I lost it. I was so angry for feeling so robbed. The only thing that brought me any peace was knowing she was up there taking care of my little ones that didn’t make it. I’m so sorry friend. 💜

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  9. I’m sorry for your loss. We grieve the loss of their presence on Earth but if they were believers, we will see them in heaven again. I’m not sure what to say for non-believers, as I’m not sure about some of my own family being in heaven. That’s a hard place to be grieving.

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  10. I am so sorry, not only for the loss itself but the fact that you never got to tell her about this next generation of family. This part was so moving: “When she was pregnant with my mom, the egg that made me was already formed inside my mom as a fetus in my grandma’s womb. How amazing life is that I originated from her.”

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  11. Pingback: Yesterday’s 10 Weeks 5 Days Scan | In Quest of a Binky Moongee

  12. Here from Mel’s round up. I’m so sorry for your loss. I had two catastrophic losses in my family last year and have spent too much time thinking about how much time my children could have had were it not for infertility. I know that if things had been different I wouldn’t have these exact children, and I would never wish them away, but I do think about how infertility stole that time.

    Beautiful post.

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