For the first three months, I was on Maternity Leave, which is actually "legally" unpaid FMLA. I don't think there are many places anymore that you can get ML, especially paid ML. I've heard about how some European countries let mothers take 2 or more years off when they have a baby - and some, if not all, of that time is paid! Sadly, that is unheard of in the US. I was lucky to get 6 weeks short-term disability pay, which still was only 60% of my normal salary. Had I not had a c-section, I would've only got 4 weeks. Pretty pathetic.
When my 3rd month of FMLA time was coming to a close, I had mixed emotions. It had been a hard few months, but I really didn't want to leave my baby, even though he'd be with his dad. Ideally, we were hoping my hubby would be going back to work, so that I would stay home with the baby - but that just didn't pan out. I was grateful we didn't have to do daycare, as we both really wanted to be the ones spending the bulk of the time with him. I was still breastfeeding, and I knew that he had really bonded with me and looked to me for a lot of his comfort. I worried that it would be traumatic for him to be away from me for so many hours at a time. I don't live close enough to work to stop home at lunch or anything. Plus, I felt like my instincts were better than my husband's. So many worries. But we didn't have any other options; we needed my stable income and benefits. My hubby was doing well with trading stocks, but we couldn't rely on that alone. Luckily, my boss was very generous and was letting me work a reduced schedule, with just enough hours to keep me eligible for benefits. It would probably be good for me to get out of the house a little more, too, as much as I hated to admit it.
I had been tired when I was at home for those three months, but it seemed to be fairly manageable. Once I went back to work, it really hit me. Baby was still waking briefly a few times per night, but once I nursed him, he usually went right back out. That had been the case since he was about 2 months old. But for some reason, when I went back to work, I was so much more tired. There were a few days that I probably shouldn't have driven to work, I was just so exhausted. I didn't want to push my luck at work, since I was already allowed such a nice, reduced schedule. And of course, I'm a "supermom" just like everyone else, I can handle it, right? After a few weeks, I adjusted and I started to feel a little better.
In addition to all of this, I was working on getting my parents accepted into a nursing home. I was so excited when I had finally gotten approval to move my elderly parents into a wonderful place. My dad had been resistant, but he had finally relented, knowing he could not care for my mom any longer on his own. The Friday I took them to their new home is a day I'll never forget. I had been reminding my dad that the day was coming, and that they needed to be ready to leave when I got to their place after work. The nursing home was expecting them, and was holding a room for them. If they didn't show up, they could lose it, and I had worked SO hard to get it for them. These opportunities are pretty rare, especially with Medicaid coverage, and they NEEDED the 24 hour care desperately. Plus, this place was so much nicer than anywhere else I'd ever seen. When I got to their place to pick them up, they didn't have a single thing packed. Dad was sitting in his wheelchair and said "why don't you just take Mom for now, and I'll go there another day." I got mad and said "No, Dad, you both need to go now. They are holding this room for you, and if you don't show up today, you could lose your spot." I starting throwing stuff into garbage bags - clean and dirty clothes, toiletries, and whatever other items they wanted. I was furious, as I had been at work all day, and didn't want to spend all evening packing and moving them in. I was exhausted and just wanted to get home to my family and spend a little time with them before bedtime.
A little background on my parents: over the last 5 years, my parents had changed so much. Their health had always been deteriorating, pretty much since I was a teenager, but lately it had gotten significantly worse. And they didn't seem to really care about anyone else anymore. My dad had always said he didn't want to be a burden for his kids, but he was making our lives very difficult. Especially now that we had a baby to care for. I think that his pain was so awful that it made him just not care anymore. I felt really bad for him, but at the same time, it was affecting my own family, and not in a good way.
So, once we were finally on the road to the nursing home (about an hour or so later), it seemed as though we would make it up there at a reasonable time. Even though we had to make a few stops along the way, it wasn't too bad. Then my husband called me and all he said was "he fell off the bed, get home now!" and hung up. I freaked out, and flew home, with my parents still in the car. I was never so scared in my whole life. Baby was ok - his Dr said that as long as he didn't have a goose egg on his head, was throwing up, or just not acting like himself, he was probably fine; but my husband was completely stressed out. All I wanted to do was be home and make sure my baby was ok - but I still had to take my parents to the nursing home, which was about 30 minutes away. It felt like hours. It was pure agony. I had wanted to help get Mom and Dad settled in a little bit, but I just had to get home. I apologized to them as I left. I'll never forget the look on my dad's face. Sadness and disappointment.
Whether it was because of our ordeal on Friday or something else, I didn't make it back up to see them on the weekend. I promised that by the next weekend, we'd all come up and we'd go out for brunch. Dad had said that he thought that was a great idea, and was looking forward to it.
Early the next Saturday morning, I kept hearing my phone vibrating as it was charging in the next room. I finally got up to see who it was: the nursing home and then the Hospice nurse. That wasn't good. I called the nursing home and the Hospice nurse came on the line moments later. She said the words no one wants to ever hear: "I'm sorry, your father's passed." I knew it was coming, had been coming for years, but it still was a shock. The first thing I thought of was that we were supposed to go to brunch today. And then how sad he looked when I had seen him last. The nurse asked if I wanted them to tell my mom; she was still sleeping. I told her yes, but only if she wakes up. Hopefully we'd get there before she did.
We got there a few minutes after they had told Mom - and naturally, she was sobbing. Dad was still there in his bed, like he was sleeping. It was so surreal. I knew it was true, but it just didn't seem possible. This was my Dad, he can't be gone. Even as I spent the next few days making all the arrangements, canceling things, calling people, etc. it still didn't feel real. I think you can only understand what it feels like if you've lost someone close to you. I was also relieved, but really only for my Dad's sake, as I knew he had been suffering a long time, and he just wasn't happy anymore. I don't think he'd given up yet, but I think subconsciously he felt better leaving now, knowing that Mom was in a safe place, with plenty of care. To this day, it still doesn't feel totally real. I wonder if it ever will.
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