The will to fight.
Over the past years 5 years of my IF struggle to conceive and meet LMI many people told me that I was a fighter and very strong. I didn't feel strong at the time, I felt I had no other choice, but to continue to try as many ways as I could to become a mother. I never really thought about where my desire to fight and be strong came from until last week when my dear friend LisainSK connected it to me, my Boobie (grandmother).
Last weekend my Boobie fell in the bathroom at my parents' house. She is 93 and her bones are frail and this fall was bad. She broke her shoulder, her hip and a few ribs. She needed surgery for her hip. The prognosis was not good. This was on Saturday. Scared does not even come close to what my family was feeling. My Zaide (grandfather) passed away when I was a young girl and my mother is an only child. We are all very close with Boobie.
Saturday was spent in the ER assessing the damage and Sunday was spent in anticipation of what the surgery would bring. The term extremely high risk was used...a lot. The thoughts that circled in all our heads were the worst. Thankfully Boobie was so drugged up on pain medication that she didn't know what was happeneing. It was similar to a Greys Anatomy episode where we watched as they wheeled her off to the OR and we were left waiting, hoping and praying that the surgery would be successful. Thankfully it was.
She came through surgery and is now recovering in the hospital. She is a fighter.
Her life has not always been easy. She immigrated to Canada in 1936 from Poland with $5 to her name. The rest of her family remained there only to perish in the Holocaust.
She got married and after eleven years finally conceived my mom. Sixty years ago IVF didn't exist. Women did not go on birth control and people did not put careers first. If you were married the expectation was that children would follow. Those that had difficulty conceiving had no scapegoat. Everyone knew. My mother is her rainbow baby. Her miracle. Her one and only child. My Boobie always felt a connection to me and even though A and I kept our IF from our extended families - she knew. I could often see the pain in her eyes when she talked about her dreams for me and my siblings. I know that she was ecstatic when my sister announced her pregnancy, but she was also quite concerned and devastated for me as well. It broke her heart that I was struggling like she did.
My Boobie is a fighter. She is a survivor. She is facing an extremely long recovery especially for someone her age. A and I postponed our family vacation so that we could be here for her. Because of her, I have the will to fight. I love you Boobie.