My mother and I arrived at the house a few hours before Shabbat, while the nursery teacher brought Raphaela back home to me. That's all I need, no food, no drinking and no medications, just to see my beautiful daughter's face, see her smile and know that she is sleeping in the next room.
Many people have come out of the wood work to cook meals and to help, at least I know that we will eat this Shabbat. It is wonderful to know that my mother can help me, though it becomes tedious at times when I wish that I could get up and do it myself, rather than explain or point or watch in frustration, feeling damaged and bloated and looking like I am in my second trimester of pregnancy. If there were a baby growing inside there I would feel less ugly, and every time Raphaela touches the staples by accident, it hurts like hell.
Shabbat was OK, if I ignored the well-meaning questions from my mother about my level of religious observance, her frustrations with my state of being single, my mother's distrust of my family doctor, and her misconception that I have no friends. My mother and Raphaela have bonded, Raphaela looks for "Bubby", and that is most important. And after a rocky start, my mother and Harry have come to terms for now, at least they have stopped hissing at each other. I explained to my mother that if you pretend Harry is a human being, his behaviour has mirrored Raphaela; they are both reacting to the fact that their Mommy suddenly disappeared for three days, and now that she is home, she doesn't move the same way.
This morning, getting Raphaela to Gan was more difficult than I anticipated. My mother for all her intentions doesn't have the strength or stamina she once did when raising her own kids, and everything felt slow; she couldn't believe that Israeli parents are actually out of the house and ready to go by 7:30 am.
Then she ran a red light, and now I have an expensive ticket and points on my driver's license. (She does feel badly about that one.) I tried to do one or two essential errands this morning, with my mother's help of course, and realized that I had pushed my body too far.
At least I have enough sense to have canceled any Chiropractic related activity for this week, the workaholic is dead, and more interesting, there is a part of me that could easily accept never going back to work. I am barely obsessing about the lost income this event represents. Almost dying changed my priorities, I want to give to myself and to Raphaela, and not necessarily to my patients. Change must take place, once I can funtion again as a single mom.
2 comments:
B"H they caught the appendix before it burst. It looks like your mom really came through for you. With issues wit your mom like "my level of religious observance, her frustrations with my state of being single, my mother's distrust of my family doctor, and her misconception that I have no friends" these are issues you will always have wth your mom. My Mom still says stuff about my hair 14 years after I got married. It looks like your Mom is really getting along with RR and focusing her visit with you and RR and not visiting friends-perhaps you should reconsider your visit to the US. On a different note, with this incident as a wake up call, you should write up a will w/provisions for a guardian for RR. B"H It's good you can spend mother's day w/both your daughter and mother
I actually have a will in which I stipulate my brother as Raphaela's guardian if G-d Forbid something happens to me while she is still young. That was an agonizing issue, and until I happened to observe my brother and sister-in-law as parents, I didn't have a decent option.
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