Icing on the Cake

Here it is, the third and final installment of my update postings detailing our turmoil from the past month and a half. This is going to be about all the other "stuff" happening outside of our infertility and adoption journeys.

First of all, a little history about Gil's family. He has a relatively large extended family but they weren't a part of his everyday life like mine generally was. His dad was killed in a work accident when Gil was only 18 months old. So, as any newly widowed young mother would do, his mom moved back to be near her parents to raise her son and continue with school and life. So there was his mom, his grandparents, his uncle (mom's brother), and him. Because his dad was in heaven, his grandpa and uncle had a huge hand of being the "father figure" in his life. Five people. His family. They were (are) close-knit and that's the family who raised him... non-traditional yet traditional.

Two and a half years ago, his grandpa was unexpectedly diagnosed with gastric cancer. Unexpected because the man had never been sick a day in his life and was healthy as a horse. Even though retired (mechanic), he still worked 2-3 days a week for the local car auctions and walked 18 holes on the golf course about 3 times per week. He started experiencing reflux and then vomiting a week before getting an EGD. He got his diagnosis of cancer and was admitted to the hospital. Six weeks later, he came home to hospice and 10 days after that, had passed into the arms of Jesus. Two months from diagnosis to death. It was harsh for all of us involved.

Gil's uncle began the process of selling his home and quitting his job (he lived 350 miles away) and moved back to his hometown to help take care of his mother. He took some time to rest before looking for a job, as he tended to be a work-aholic and was understandably tired and worn out when he moved. Some back pain he'd been experiencing progressed to the point where he finally went to the doctor last February. Like his father, he'd never been sick before and had never been to the doctor and definitely never had a hospital stay. At 54 (now 55), he was diagnosed with stage IV (the worst stage) colon cancer, only a year and some months since his dad passed away. He was in the hospital for a couple of weeks and then discharged home. He continued having intense chemotherapy infusions for six months before insurance requirements made him go back to work in August. He began having what I call "maintenance" chemo, a quick once-every-two-weeks chemo injection. Around Thanksgiving, he started getting worse again and was told he would have to start the intense infusions again. Christmas was difficult for all of us - for uncle because of the increasing pain, for us because we now live so far away and are unable to help or spend time with him. He wanted to wait until after the holidays to begin chemo again and two weeks ago had his first bout. He reacted horribly. Last week, he was admitted to the hospital again... and he was diagnosed with having shingles on top of everything else.

So in less than 3 years, Gil lost his grandpa and is bound to lose his uncle, both men who were very important and close to him (and now me) as any father figure would be. As hard as losing Grandpa was, it's been extremely difficult dealing with his uncle because of age and distance.

Also, just days before Christmas, we came into a situation where someone we've always been "friends" with damaged that relationship. It came out of nowhere and sucker-punched us pretty hard. We were completely caught off guard and it stunned us pretty badly. We're still reeling in those effects and trying to understand why people claiming to be friends can act in such atrocious ways.

I've also been emotionally distressed for my brother, who's been persecuted beyond all sense of reason. It's difficult to watch someone you love so much deal with pain that we all inevitably deal with in some way, shape or form growing up. A person's twenties are supposed to be fun and carefree but I've never changed so much as a person as I did in my twenties... and it took a lot of hard knocks and being beaten down to learn how to survive and become the person I am. I haven't finished learning or growing yet, but hopefully I've gotten through the worst of it.

I think that pretty much sums up the past month and a half. When added all together with the infertility and adoption junk, let's just say I've been very stressed, saddened and pained and some days, it feels like I can barely breathe. I've begun to find that though I consider myself a pretty open person, the longer we deal with the infertility crap, the less I want to talk about any of it. It hurts too much... and the pain from the infertility makes everything else in life hurt way more than it's supposed to.