Believe In The Moment

I could kick myself when I think of what I said to my sister. I remember we were at the house on the island.  Mom, Anne and I were on the veranda discussing motherhood.   At the time my older sister Anne had been married for a while and had not as of yet had any children. She was then thirty-four. It seem to me that she was very comfortable with the idea of being the aunt to my son Jason and to his cousins, my older brother’s two daughters. I said something to the effect that I didn’t see Anne as a mother.  I couldn’t imagine my sister changing dippers all day and doing all the tasks that is required of a Mother.  It just didn’t seem to be her style. So I blurted it out, not as an insult. Just like that in conversation, it didn’t really faze anyone. But for some reason it stuck in my mind as something I shouldn’t have said.  A small nagging feeling in the back of mind that resurfaced in the years that followed.

A year later my sister got pregnant at the age of thirty-five. In the sixth month Anne wasn’t well, her leg and feet were extremely swollen. She was still experiencing ‘morning sickness’ only for her it was an ‘all day sickness’.  She called her gynocologist for an appointment but the secretary told her to wait for her scheduled appointment the following week.  Anne would have left it at that, but she was feeling progressively worse so she decided to go to a clinic and see the general practitioner.  The doctor soon discovered that she had abnormally high blood pressure and was rushed to the hospital to have an emergency caesarean.  The high blood pressure was suffocating the baby and poisoning Anne. At least, that is the way it was explained to me.  I was told that if she had not gone to see the doctor when she did she would surely have died that night.  My sister gave birth to a premature baby girl.  Anne and her husband called her Claire.  Claire only lived two weeks.

That small nagging feeling came back when I thought of Claire, my sister’s only child that didn’t survive.

At the age of thirty-six Anne got pregnant again. She had all the signs. She gained weight. She was happy. After a few month she wasn’t feeling well. She went to the Doctor. They did an ultrasound and found no baby. It was declared a false pregnancy. To this day my sister believe she had a miscarriage. Again my sister would not be a mother.

The third (or second time) Anne got pregnant she was thirty-seven. Anne was thrilled with the idea of finally doing it right. She went to see specialists for difficult pregnancies. They would watch her blood pressure closely. This time she believed she would succeed. Personally I was amazed at Annes courage to try again.

Everything was going well in her fifth month but in her six month Dad was scheduled to have the operation that took his life.  When our father died Anne’s blood pressure skyrocketed again. She was rushed to the hospital. And while my father was exposed at the funeral parlour my sister had a second caesarean. Giving birth to a tiny boy. I remember being in the church when we were saying our last farewell to my father, I was looking at my father’s coffin but I was thinking of the baby. He was only a day old. I remember praying for that little baby boy in the incubator; I tried to concentrate so that I could give him strength if that was at all possible. I wanted him to breathe to be strong and to live.

At the hospital they told us that his lungs were not developed enough and they were not sure if he would make it. The next day after twenty-four hours of life Anne's baby died. Anne was devastated.  She was never allowed to leave the hospital to attend our fathers funeral and all her hopes of having a child were swept away. Anne was consumed with grief.   Again I thought of what I had said. The nagging feeling was bigger then ever.

I only saw my sister Anne again two weeks after the baby died.  For some reason she looked great. She looked happy and enthusiastic about the prospect of trying again. Now this baffled me.  She said that it hadn’t been the right time to have a baby and that in a few years she would try again. Well I couldn’t help being in awe.  All my sister’s life she never was much of the type to fall off the horse and then get back on.  But now after three painful tries she was going to try again. Actually I thought maybe she was just saying she would get pregnant again and then in time she would forget about it.

But at the age of forty-one, Anne did get pregnant again. Believe me I had a renewed sense of admiration for my sister. She was awesome.  In my heart of hearts I believed that Anne deserved more than anyone I knew to be a mother. And I knew now that she would be a great mother.

After six months of pregnancy, again Anne had high blood pressure and again they perform and emergency caesarean.  She gave birth to a one pound and a half baby boy. It was hard on Anne and her husband. They visited the baby every day. And day after day he survived. At two weeks old he had a heart operation to complete a development that usually take place during pregnancy.

He was in an incubator for six month and had an oxygen tube for a whole year after coming home from the hospital. To me, my little nephew whom they called Phillip was a miracle baby and he turn out being a very special boy. And my sister Anne turned out being a terrific and extraordinary mother.

It’s was only when Phillip was four that I found out what happen after my sister lost her second child. She said: ”The night the baby died, I cried uncontrollably. I just couldn’t stop.  The news that my second baby had died was too much for me to handle. I felt that I had to face the fact that I could never bear a child. That night I fell a sleep from total exhaustion and depression. I didn’t think anything or anyone could ever console me. But that night I saw daddy. Maybe I dreamed it, I don’t know. But he looked very real. And I said to him "Ah daddy, how could this happen again?" And that is when he told me "Anne it is not the right time to have a baby.  Your mother is alone she is going to need someone for a while. But I promise you, Anne, don’t worry you will have your baby."   (excerpt from Words of Love)

 I now understood what happen at the hospital 4 years prior and was elated that my father came after his death to console my sister. I know that many have experienced these kind of dreams or visions that seem so real. If you have had an experience that is hard to explain but proves that life goes on even after death. I would love to hear about it.

Linda