Forgive me for the word vomit that is about to come forth.
Eight years ago today my mom died. It was a Sunday, and it was very sunny. I lived in Nutley, New Jersey at that time. The night before, I had gone on my first date with Jeeves, which had been the best first date I'd ever been on. I got up that Sunday morning, and had breakfast at the diner with Wendy, who was on her way to visit her parents in our hometown of Mahwah. I came back to my apartment, and I was sitting at my computer in my little home office, contemplating a nap and the errands I had to run. The phone rang and it was my dad calling on his cell phone. He and my mom were on vacation at the beach in Delaware (yeah, in February.... they like the beach in February because no one else is there). I should note that I had talked to Mom the night before and on several other occasions on their vacation. She had come down with what sounded like a stomach bug. But she sounded cheerful, in general. Dad, his voice choking up, told me that Mom had not seemed well that morning, so Dad took over packing up their things. When they got in the car to drive home, Mom suddenly stopped breathing. Dad called 911, they came very quickly, and they tried very hard, but there was nothing they could do - Mom died.
February 26th is a horrible day. When I think of this day, I think of how awful it must have been for my dad to watch his wife of 43 years die, and I think of how scared my mom must have been in her last moments. And when I get done remembering all the events of that day (including the incredible kindness of my friends - Liana, who drove me to my dad's; Wendy, who went grocery shopping so there'd be food at my dad's house for us; Kate, who came up from DC just to sit with me), all I'm really left with is how much I miss my mom, and how I think things would be better in my life and with my family if she had not died.
So, anyway, that's the baseline of my day. Some years, February 26th is not so bad, and I miss my mom and feel sad about the anniversary of her death, but it's not too bad. And some years, like this year, it's really bad. Part of it is that I'm pregnant and I wish she were here for this, and also I'm hormonal and more prone to crying anyway. And part of it was that this day just sucked.
Our babymoon was awesome, and I want to post about it more when I'm in a better frame of mine, but near the end of the trip, my acid reflux and heart palpitations started up and nothing I seem to do (except for standing and walking, which I can't do all of the time) makes them better. Today, the palpitations were horrible, and they made me feel terrified that I was going to die or that the baby isn't getting enough blood flow. I made the mistake of reading some online stuff about heart problems in pregnancy and that just made me feel worse. I'm sure it's not coincidental that my palpitations are the worst they have ever been on the emotional anniversary of my mother's death from a heart attack. But I also think that as Manuji gets bigger, he might be squishing things and either the acid reflux or just the general lack of room in there could be doing something to my vagus nerve. In any case - heart palpitations = sucky. I'm seeing the cardiologist tomorrow for my echo and my 24 hour holter. Not really sure what they can do for me. Probably nothing, and I'll just have to tolerate horrible palpitations for the next 16 weeks. I know, I know - I'm so fucking lucky to be pregnant and I will gladly suck it up and deal with it. But the palpitations make everything difficult.
And then there's Dad. For the last two weeks he has been in such a mood and it's happening at a time when I would really like it if he would be the adult in the family instead of me. I didn't bother asking for his advice on the apartment stuff (which, uggghhhhh, you guys, that is another story for another time, but it was a total shit show while we were on our trip) or really telling him much about my heart palpitation situation because he just doesn't seem remotely interested in how I'm really doing right now. He's got his own stuff going on and he's just not in a place to give much of anything to me right now (other than worry.... he's really, really good at making me worry, and I almost feel like he's been dialing it up a notch. I know he doesn't put my sister through any of this crap.).
And because it wasn't enough for me to feel physically crappy, scared, sad, angry today, I had to go and feel extra stupid too. For Christmas, Jeeves got me very nice, very expensive headphones. And a little leather carrying case for them. I use them everyday and I have been taking really good care of them. And then.... I went on vacation and proceeded to lose them. I didn't notice until this morning when I reached into my purse to pull them out. I think I might have left them on the plane. I don't know. But they're gone. And it just makes me feel so stupid.
So that's it. The shitfest that is February 26th. I just have nothing positive to add to any of this. I miss my mom. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.