Pamplemousse

PCOS - check. Infertility - check. IVF - check. 43 years young - check. Sick of babydust - fricking double check. Join a Scottish infertile as she slowly swirls down the plughole. Now with added donor egg flava.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Scream If You Want To Go Faster

Not.

My mum has breast cancer. She went for her mammogram and there was something changed, a core biopsy found cancerous changes and et voila, lumpectomy on Thursday past to be followed by an as yet undetermined amount of radiotherapy.

If you have been a long-time reader or friend, you will know that my mum and I have never had the most amicable of relationships. 13 years ago, she pissed me off by moving in with someone less than 6 months after my dad died of cancer. I know now she was lonely and needed someone there, needed more than what us, her children, could provide. But it hurt. Fucking hurt.

It is not the only thing that we have ever been at loggerheads about. Hey, I am 42 and life is long. Women in my family were brought up opinionated yet on pain of death, no talking about emotions or feelings. Just suck it up, be silent and stoic and endure. Get back into the fields and do the work. No time to contemplate your navel or feel sorry for yourself. There would be death before ever blogging or talking about feelings so you can see I am missing some granite chromosome somewhere.

I have to say that my mum totally stepped up to the plate with my 2 fucked-up pregnancies. The last 10 months, we have been the closest we have ever been and shock horror, we now share about feelings, talk about them, share the pain. Mum did not want to tell anyone.. friends, relatives, neighbours.. about her cancer. I told her that you can only get support if you share the pain.

It was the one thing I learnt from being secretive for so many years about IF. I told no-one in real life so no-one in real life could be a friend and support me. Yes, I had all my web and blog friends and your support was a virtual lifeboat for me. You helped me not to drown but it is hard to get a hug through the phone or by e-mail.

When my mum and I started really talking, she wiped the slate clean of all our ancient hurts and then some.

Now it is my turn to step up for her.