Transition. Change. These are the things that affect us all and, if allowed, direct us to broader understanding.
Lots of changes have transpired in my family of late. I relocated away from my husband and youngest son for a month to help my daughters. Then my one daughter became a mother. And that created an interesting dynamic between her and her sister, who always thought she’d be the first to give us grandchildren.
Then there was the constant state of worry that all of us had been living in for the past number of months, concerned that Kai would have Cystic Fibrosis. A huge burden was lifted and a shift of focus took place when her test results came back negative.
There have been the not-so-gradual changes that have transpired in Kai’s household. As those of us who have had children know, there’s really no way to prepare for just how up-heaved one’s life becomes when a newborn is thrown into the equation.
Since Kia’s birth, we have had to adjust our expectations to fit into her scheme of things. How she had complications that required and continue to require that she return to the doctor frequently. We’ve had to get used to giving her medicine preceding every meal. And then we’ve had to keep her in an upright position for at least thirty minutes following every meal to give her the best possible chance of keeping said meal in her. Then came the lactose intolerance. And most recently, we had to restrict how much food she eats per feeding.
I’ve watched the chemistry between my two daughters morph, then get strained and find its common ground again as the two have had to adjust to their new roles in their relationship—one of mother, the other of auntie.
Me, I had to make plans to relocate for an indefinite amount of time, not knowing what would result after Kai’s birth. And then, once it became apparent that she was having problems, I readjusted again, abandoning any hopes of going home until things had settled down here—where I was needed most.
My husband and youngest son have had to adjust to me not being home, much less in the state. And when I’ve spoken to my now high school son and heard the slight quiver in his voice when he’d ask, “When are you comeing home, Mom?” I had to choke back my own tears and say, “Honey, I don’t’ know. It all depends on Kai.”
This week, with the results of Kai’s tests in and negative, I’ve readjusted again, and began to put into motion my returning home. That’s taken a bit of doing, for I’ve needed to prepare Kai’s folks for my imminent departure, instilling in them the self-confidence that they will be able to handle their daughter on their own. I’ve had to run intervention a few times with my daughters to stop senseless squabbling and get them back on track to work together, for when I’m gone, they will need to draw upon each other more than ever. Then I’ve made announcements back home and to all my work contacts and friends that I do now have a return date—something all have been eager to discover since before I left.
All those cards have been put into place, and today I’m preparing myself mentally and physically to return home—tomorrow. As I write this, my hands shake and my eyes well up, thinking of leaving behind my girls and Kai and her family. Can’t imagine not seeing Kai every day. Being soothed by her grunts and coos. Marveling over her every development. Being able to be there in person, to look my daughter in the eye when I help her understand how best to mother her daughter. And to not be able to see my own girls interact with one another every day…well….
Last night we all got together and had a farewell dinner. Tonight, we’ll have a smaller gathering and possibly another movie marathon, not wanting to waste what time we have left together sleeping. And then tomorrow, I’ll begin my long drive home around noon.
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