People would think, a 40-year-old child………It doesn’t hurt as much as losing a young child or infant, but it does. It is decidedly so because the day your baby is born, that mark, that heartbeat in the mother changes. It never changes after that, because you are a mother. A baby is given to you from God, who entrusts you with this soul to care and nourish for the rest of their life and yours. The aches, pains and disappointments NEVER sway your love, and you love them for the long haul, even if you know their secrets, good or bad.
My daughter died at 40 years of age. My heart cracked and broke, and will never be the same. We had our ups and downs, goods and bad because of her addiction. I fought her addiction, but that put a wedge between us. Why? Because, she had become the addiction. I loved my daughter, but hated the addiction she had become. Constantly, I would look at her when she would say something hateful and it hurt so bad because I was looking at my daughters face, but hearing the addiction talk. I had to separate the two and in my mind and know this was not my baby girl talking, it was the horrible, hateful, devious addiction.
There were nights my daughter would leave to go out on a date, but the addiction would be the one coming home with cuss words and hate seething from her mouth. It was hard and it hurt with every uncalled for string of horrible words that flew out of her mouth, but you could see in her pained eyes that she was hurting in what she was saying but couldn’t help herself or stop.
This girl had so much hurt in her and the thought of love was soooo out of context for her. When she was sober, she was so funny and silly. She was just afraid of when the pain would return, and the addiction would rear its ugly head and make her run away to drink and do drugs.
Many times she had been in rehab. Many times, the addiction made her walk out of rehab.
My mind was lost many times wondering where my sweet, funny, intelligent and loving girl had gone. It encompassed my daily breathing. I fought and searched to try to help her. I bent rules and and fought everything and everyone who fought trying to get her the help she needed. She slipped through the cracks, so to speak. She was arrested many times, but let go many times. The police would just let her go at 3 in the morning being caught trespassing and drunk or high. The officer would call and ask me to come get her. I would ask why if she was trespassing, and more than publicly intoxicated, why they didn’t arrest her. They would tell me that since she claimed her brother or father were officers, They were letting her go on the brotherly kindness. When I said it is not true that her brother or father were officers of any sort and not even close to the good side of the law, they would just say: Can you come pick her up please. When I would say no, then they would call her aunt who was not at all happy being woke at 3am. So, The addiction knew the tricks to back me into a corner. On the other hand, I was furious with the police because they were not doing their sworn duty when she would break the law. Me, hoping they would arrest her and lock her up to see where this addiction was taking her. She would have been terrified and maybe she would fight her addiction more seriously.
All those waited years of trying to get her help, down the drain. One time she was so drunk, she wanted to commit suicide with Xanax. I took her pills, she said she was calling the police. Of course I begged her to call and she did. The dispatcher heard our conversation of her intent and that she was going to kill me too. The police and an ambulance came. The deputy talked to me outside the house so she wouldn’t hear us and he said follow the ambulance to the hospital. Write an affidavit of what she is doing and they should keep her 72 hours because even he said she needs psychiatric help. I did just as he suggested. The hospital let her go 3 hours later and this was after she was hitting and cussing the security guard who was about 7 ft tall and very subdued. He didn’t let her phase him. I was in total shock that they released her. She called a friend who picked her up and I found out they never gave the doctor the affidavit.
It is not easy being the mother of such a troubled soul who turned into the addiction.
On January 27th 2016, I received a call from the local hospital saying my daughter wanted the nurse to call me so I would know she was there. She was in I.C.C.U. Intensive Critical Care Unit. Being this was the 20th time there about of getting these kinds of calls, I figured well, she is in the hospital again, cause they wouldn’t tell me why, they weren’t allowed to because of HIPPA rules. (I only found out about ICCU when I got there). I told them I would get there when I could. 9 of the previous times she was in the hospital, she had clinically died and they brought her back to life. Couple times it was Xanax or alcohol related and a few because of being put into psychiatric. This was the first time I didn’t go rushing to the hospital to see what was wrong with my baby girl.
This was the last time. I got to the hospital a couple of hours later with my daughter’s Godmother. When they told me at the desk where she was, I couldn’t believe it. She had been in ICU a few times, the ER a few times, but never I.C.C.U.
We had talked a few days before and she told me her back hurt so bad that she couldn’t walk and I told her the 4 days before to call an ambulance. I couldn’t get to where she was cause I didn’t have a car, plus. she wouldn’t tell me where she was staying. I begged and pleaded with her, but she said she would wait to see if it was better the next day. I called and called but she didn’t answer and her phone didn’t work half the time anyway, so I figured she must be up and about and she would call when she could. I none the less was worried.
She did call the ambulance on the 27th, they said she was soooo horribly drunk. She had called to ask if they could send an ambulance to have someone get her food from the refrigerator, because she thought she had slept for a few days, and she was hungry.
They assumed I was the last one she spoke to before passing out for 3 days. She slept through having to go to the bathroom too. So, they took her to the hospital emergency room and found out her body was shutting down. Another victory for the addiction! They said they didn’t think she would make it being wheeled up to I.C.C.U. She was so close to death. They cleaned her up from all the bodily fluids she was covered in. Addiction really took advantage of her and used her up. When she woke up and saw me there, the only words out of her mouth were: Mom- hand me my beer, where is it? I told her flat out no, that is enough of that talk, no beer sweetie. Her stats were so out of whack, everything in her charts where either way to high up or way below where they should be. She was not talking and making sense. She was highly agitated or sleeping.
The doctors said her liver and kidneys were shutting down and 90% she wouldn’t make it, BUT there were always miracles.
For years I told her what could happen with drugs and alcohol, but addiction made her deaf to her loving mother’s words. I couldn’t lock her up or chain her up to save her. I loved my daughter so desperately that I even started petitioning the courts ( without her even knowing about it ), to have her committed for her own safety. We were going to go on the 5th of Feb. and hopefully her life would change for the better.
Then, the day came that her doctor had shifted all decisions to me because my daughter was in serious shape. It was touch and go. I begged to have them do a liver transplant where I would donate part of my liver I begged that they would let me donate a kidney. His answer was, no. They were afraid it was a moot point because they said she would not survive surgery at this point and her next few days were questionable. Their question to me was: Do you want her to stay on the Potassium, magnesium and Xanax? The tests showed that these three items were all that was keeping her alive. She slept 23 hours of 24. she couldn’t move and was in severe pain. Everything was shut down or shutting down.
I wished that she could understand and make sense so I could talk to her and let her know what was going on and find out if she wanted to remain in pain and fight, but that wouldn’t happen.
The horrible thought of having to decide to let this soul that God presented you with 40 years and so many days before to care for and raise and nourish and love, was the hardest decision I had ever made in my life. I felt on one hand, I can’t play GOD with her life. One the other hand, my heart was in so much turmoil watching her suffer. I asked in so many different ways what her chances were, what about the miracle that could happen? WHERE IS GOD’S GRACE IN ALL THIS!?
The next morning I asked the nurse to get the doctor for me, I made my decision.
I tried several times to verbally express my decision but my throat closed up every time I tried, but then, I looked at him and asked: Are you sure there is no hope, no chance for a turn around? He said no, we are past the miracle stage. God himself would have to come down and lay hands on her, she will die-it is just a matter of when. If you leave her one the meds, she may get a couple of months, but, there will be quite a bit of pain and she will eventually go into a coma and die. On the other hand, IF you take her off the meds, she will still receive pain meds to keep that under control, but we can remove the monitors in her room and her body will continue to shut down and she will succumb to a silent and painless heart attack.
After the doctor telling me these things, I looked at him, swallowed and said let her go in peace. Take off the meds. I love her too much to see her suffer and if it will be a painless, silent heart attack, She deserves that more than agony, thrashing pain.
On February 8th, at 7:38pm, my daughter opened her eyes and looked at me sitting in a chair at the bottom of her hospital bed, and I jumped up and ran to be next to her. I held her hand as she locked eyes with me. I began telling her how much I love her and it was okay for her to let go. She started turning her head up, towards the corner of the room in back of her. I asked if she saw her husband? God? Jesus? her son Jesse? Grandma and/or grandpa? I was trying not to cry, but to be confident and strong for her. We would lock eyes again as I told her how much I loved her and if she wanted to go and let go of the pain, I was ok with it because I knew she was going to heaven. She again looked up into that corner. I asked if she saw Bingo-a beloved dog she was so close to. Then she looked back into my eyes with a peaceful expression, closed her eyes and then she was gone and at that second, I felt a rush of air from her whole body. It wasn’t her last breath, but as a couple of priests and ministers and a chaplain said, it was her soul leaving her body. It traveled up my torso, stopped at my chin and paused as if to kiss me goodbye and then flew. It made my hair fly back and my chin moved upwards and I gasped for breath at this strange happening of amazement. It was as if love had washed over me. I have never felt anything before such as this or after. It was a beautiful passing and I still wonder who came for her that was up in that corner. Someday I will know……………………………