I had trouble getting pregnant. My doctor discovered that I was not ovulating. I went on a medication to stimulate ovulation. I also did things like taking my temperature every morning to find out when I was ovulating. This was before those handy dandy ovulation predictor kits. I was actually a month or two away from being put on fertility drugs when I got pregnant. I was almost in shock; I was thrilled; I was scared; I was excited. My husband was thrilled, too. He had a daughter by his first marriage that his ex pretty much kept from him during the first part of her life, so he was looking forward to raising a child with me.
Early in my pregnancy, I started spotting badly, which of course scared me immensely. I was sure that I was losing the baby. After getting little response from my obstetrician and obtaining another one ( a story for another day), I had bloodwork and found that my pregnancy hormone was where it was supposed to be and that the baby was fine. I just had to rest a lot and nor overdo.
Later in my pregnancy, I developed Bell's Palsy. It came on very slightly - I had a weird tingling in my lips like they were swelling. I thought I was having an allergic reaction to a new brand of cereal I had eaten that morning. I happened to have an OB appointment that day and mentioned it, kind of in passing, to my doctor. After looking at my face and then bringing another doctor in - that scared me - she told me she was fairly certain it was Bell's Palsy. I knew nothing about that condition, so I stopped at the library on the way home. (This was pre-Google.) What I read scared me! I was referred to a neurologist who eased me fears somewhat telling me that the condition was most likely caused my the pregnancy and should pass after the baby was born. Meanwhile, half of my face was frozen. One eye watered constantly, and I had to tape it shut at night to sleep. But the doctor was right - the day after my son was born, my face returned to normal.
If I had only known that the pregnancy, with all of its trials and tribulations would be the easy part! I thought things would be easier when he started eating real food...when he stopped wearing diapers...when he started school...when he graduated from high school...when he graduated from college...when he got a job. But as I have always heard, bigger kids bring bigger problems,
After Tyler graduated from college, he got a job near us, so we let him move back in. He wasn't making a lot of money yet, so we wanted him to be able to save up some money so he could eventually get his own place. He had his bedroom, plus the bedroom right across from it, which became known as "the lounge." He had his big screen TV in there along with the computer he built piece-by-piece over a few years. He also had his own bathroom. Not a bad set-up, I would say!
Many of you who know me personally or have read a former blog post know that my son married a Canadian girl and moved to Toronto in 2018. When he was at college less than 100 miles from me and I might go a month without seeing him, I would worry about him. Now he is thousands of miles from me and the worry has multiplied immensely. He and his wife have jumped through hoops, doing everything they need to to prove their marriage is legit, and for him to get a work permit. Over 13 months after his arrival in Canada, he still is not permitted to work. As I have told him, the first year or so of marriage is rough under the best of circumstances, but it sure doesn't help when one half of the couple is not allowed to get a job. Toronto is not a cheap place to live!
If Tyler not being able to work was not enough, his wife developed health issues. Americans have the wrong idea about free healthcare in Canada. You may not have to pay the doctor, but you may have to wait more than a month to see the doctor of your choice. If you go to an urgent care, you may wait for hours. Then comes the prescriptions - some may be free, but others cost a small fortune. In Tyler's and his wife's experience, caring doctors who want to truly find out what is wrong with you are few and far between. My daughter-in-law was forced to go on short-term disability, so their already low income was slashed more.
My husband and I have bee trying to help all we can. Lord knows that my mother helped us through many, many trying times in our lives. I wish we could do more. If I won the lottery, I would be overjoyed to be able to make my children's lives easier. As most parents have, we have sacrificed a lot for our kids. I am not bragging or complaining...just saying.... I would happily do without so much to help my children. I am not talking about spoiling them rotten, but ease their loads a little.
The bottom line is that no matter how old your "children" get, you care, you worry, you stress. In my case at least, I carry a lot of guilt, too. Did I not prepare them well enough? Could I have done more? What can I do now? Where can I find the answers? I can tell you that I pray more and harder than ever in my life....
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