Dad died 2 months before my first child is born

FormerMember
FormerMember
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Hi everyone,

I just wanted to get this written down really as I am struggling massively day to day.

My dad was diagnosed 6 years ago with renal cell carcinoma. Was told it was contained within the one kidney so had it removed, then told all was well. Had scans every so often as is standard. Picked up a small growth in his lung a short while afterwards but was told it was tiny and not growing, so was not a concern. Had regular scans over the next few years and with every one, he'd tell us there was little to no change and all was still well. At some point in mid-2019, they found a tumour on my dad's liver and pretty quickly decided to go down the chemotherapy route. After around 2 months of chemo, he was told that his lung tumours were shrinking but the ones in his liver weren't responding and were growing rapidly. They told him no more treatment was available and decided to stop treatment to "let nature take it's course" as he put it.

He seemed to get a new lease of life at this point, probably massively in part to the cocktail of drugs he was on, primarily morphine. Coming off the chemo too. He was miserable during that.

He was told about his metastasis on November 7 and died on December 19. 

During all of this, from before the first operation on his kidney, my wife and I had been trying for a baby. It so happened we had to go down the IVF route. We had a few unsuccessful rounds before finally falling pregnant in May of 2019.

It was my dad I spoke to when the initial rounds of IVF failed. I don't really show my emotions very much like a typical male, but it was to him I'd go to to cry when I had to let it out. I'm not religious but he told me that he'd pray every single night before he went to bed for years that this would work for us. It was dad that was easily the most excited person in my family when we finally told them the news. He just hugged me and said, "see, told you." 

My dad died just over a month ago and my first child, an absolute true labour of love, is due in around 3 weeks. I've just been through (still going through) the hardest time of my life and am about to go through the best. I'm having a really hard time trying to understand how to deal with that. I don't think I can.

To have my dad robbed from me just weeks before this is completely breaking me. He was so excited. He didn't let on about how it was affecting him as his nature was to protect his family, but I could tell he was crushed. 

We managed to take him to one of those 3D scan places a few weeks before he died and got some very clear pictures. I also told him my child's name, which we have decided to keep private. He absolutely treasured that photo and wanted to tell everyone the name we chose because he was so proud. I told him he could, because I loved seeing him so happy when he was at his lowest. I love that I was able to give him that at least.

It's a struggle in the truest sense of the word. Whenever I get down about my dad, I feel guilty that I'm not focused on the baby. And vice versa. I am completely torn.

Thank you if you've read this far. I don't think I'm after advice because I know everything will be alright eventually. That's one of the last things he told me. But I'm just having a hard time seeing it. I know it's early days. Just being silly I suppose.

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Hi there. Let me reassure you, you are not being silly. What you've described is your reaction and that is a valid way to feel - it's your feeling. You're describing natural reactions. I lost my sister almost 3 weeks ago,  I showed her photos of my niece's kids and of kids in India that we sponsored visit., she smiled and was happy to see them, I'm so happy I shared those moments she died from cancer 1 week later and we had no idea she had it - she didn't either (special needs).  You shared your baby's name and photo scan. That is something precious and special you shared. Hold that special moment close to your heart. I would say, be kind to yourself and give yourself permission to feel how you've described  - that's ok  it will take time...you'll know the right people to share memories of your Dad with too. Take care of your heart and yourself.

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    Thank you for your reply. I'm sorry to hear about your sister. It's an absolute sin how fast this disease can progress and rob people of their families. How are you holding up?

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Hello, and let me start by saying how sorry I am for your loss of your dad. Cancer is, I think, just about the cruellest of illnesses. My own father died in 2015, a mere 11 days after being diagnosed with stomach cancer which had metastasised to his liver. Devastated doesn't come close. Even now, almost an unbelievable 5 years on(!!!???), I still think about the crazy chain of events that led up to his death and wonder how on earth my mum and I lurched from one crisis to the next. 

    It is really not surprising that you are having the conflicted feelings that you describe; you have been faced with, and are going through, 2 of the most life-changing events that there are. There is absolutely no 'silliness' in how you are feeling, I promise. Complete ends of the spectrum of life-experiences; utter devastation to complete joy - be kind to yourself. As much as you can, do what you need to do - sleep, be alone, cry, be joyful for the future with your new family but also acknowledge the tragedy that has taken place. It will be a rollercoaster of feelings - grief alone is exhausting and coupled with the impending arrival of your baby, there will be times that you will feel beyond shattered. Be 'selfish' - and by that, I mean do what you (and your family) need to do - and if that means you're not up to visitor after visitor to meet the baby, so be it. Try not to think how you 'should' be feeling and just be with how you ARE feeling. 

    I've rambled, and I'm sorry. I guess the final thing I want to say is that when you hold your new arrival close, remember that in him/her, you are also holding onto part of your dad. Take-care. 

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    Thank you for that. Your last paragraph made me tear up. Never really thought of it like that until now.

    I don't know how you coped having to deal with that just 11 days after a diagnosis. I feel hard done-by and we got about 6 years from diagnosis. It truly is a cruel illness. I hope you're doing okay.

    I definitely intend on being "selfish", although I'm starting to feel like a few colleagues of mine are maybe thinking that I should be over it by now. They were all super kind when I went back into work, which was only 2 weeks ago. Most of them still are, but a few are starting to get fed up with me I feel. Then again, I'm more than likely just being paranoid.

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    Hi again

    Sorry for making you tear up!  It's true though. 

    I'm not sure how my mum and I coped really. To be honest, it still messes with my head, even now. 

    Anyway; colleagues. Totally get what you mean about them expecting you should be back to normal by now. I remember feeling the same. It feels ghastly, I know; like, HOW can anything ever be 'normal' again?!  One of my colleagues that I worked closely with at the time never even acknowledged my loss (not even a 'Sorry for your loss' comment) when I went back and that still upsets/ angers me, even now. Some might say that's silly of me, and I was told that the particular colleague found it hard to mention what had happened. Not having any acknowledgement of what had happened was much harder, I promise! 

    For your own well-being, you need to be mindful that, unless they have been through it themselves, these colleagues have no real understanding of the enormity of your loss. As far as they're concerned, seeing you back at work only 'proves' to them that you're ready to get on with your life. Those of us who are actually grieving know that is anything but the truth!  I know it's incredibly tough but TRY not to let their thoughtless comments /behaviour feel like a slight against you; it's more a case of them living in a state of blissful ignorance. Surround yourself, if possible, with people who DO 'get it' and understand where you are coming from. 

    Take great care. Lorna. 

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    I work with about 20 people so it's quite a "cosy" place really. I think only 2 of them haven't even acknowledged it whatsoever. I don't mind really, because I don't even particularly like them. It's fine though, everyone else has been lovely and has made going back to work as painless as it could be. I have had a few days where I've asked to go early. The 19th which was a month on and the 22nd was his birthday. I worked both days but finished early.

    In what way does it mess with your head? I've browsed a few forums and I've noticed the being-in-a-bubble comparison a lot. Did you get that? I certainly did. Immediately after the funeral directors came to get my dad, I went for a walk as I couldn't go back inside. The streets were as busy as ever but the world felt still to me. Weirdly, the only thing I can liken it to is Christmas morning, when it truly is a ghost town outside. But the streets were packed. Very odd feeling. I was mad at everyone for going about their business. Felt like screaming, "don't you know what the **** I've just been through half an hour ago?!"

    Very odd. 

    Much love.

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    Hi again. 

    I'm glad to hear that most people at your work have been lovely and that you have been able to leave a bit earlier when you have needed to. It's good that they respect that on certain dates, you need some leeway. 

    You asked how the loss of my dad messed with my head: I have a pre-existing anxiety condition with an unfortunate tendency to overthink things - together, this has caused some taxing times. 

    I completely 'get' the whole being in a bubble feeling and can remember being SO angry that people were carrying on with their day to day existance when I had just undergone the worst thing that could have possibly happened and my life was forever altered. 

    I've also found that the loss also creates a different kind of existance - for me, anyway. An existance whereby I'm obviously living life in the present and doing everything that I should be doing, but with part of me very much with my dad; or, at least, keeping him close in my thoughts. 

    I hope that your wife / partner is keeping well in her pregnancy. When your grief feels a little less raw, you might like to create or update some photo albums with pics of your dad and even make a memory box, where you can keep any precious reminders of your father. One day, you will be able to share these with your son/daughter and tell them all about their dear grandad. 

    Take care. Love, Lorna 

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    Hello. You are not being silly. Cancer finally beat  my dad on 16th December too. You and I are both experiencing something So sad it’s hard to put into words, and the emotions it brings are so variable minute by minute. My feelings so far have have been mainly numb - a way of self defence I’m sure. 
    your dad was clearly so happy and proud  that you are soon to be parents..... all we can do is our best - please try not to feel guilty about anything. I’m lead to believe that whatever we feel is ‘normal’ . I have a daughter who has been incredible - I’m pretty sure I need her as much as she needs me right now. Sending you and your family best wishes and I’m sure that when your little baby arrives he or she will bring you some comfort ....after all our dads live on  through us and our children xx

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    Hi again Lorna.

    I know exactly what you mean with the anxiety. I think after dealing with something as devastating as this, it's normal for our minds to try and make sense of it in any way it can. I tried to prepare myself when dad's illness deteriorated by reading as much as I could about the dying process. It sounds grim when I write it down, but I think it did help, in a way. It helped my family too as I was able to explain certain things to them that we otherwise might not have understood. By no means did it prepare me but it helped give me a sense of control if anything.

    I like the idea of a memory box. I'm definitely going to do that. I have so many memories about dad that I can't wait to share with my son. One I'll share here, there is a road near my parents' house with trees on each side. At one point, there are 2 trees perfectly opposite each other and their branches meet over the road. Every single time we drove under them, he'd mention how they were holding hands. I can't wait to tell him about that.

    I hope you're finding things easier now. I don't think there will ever be a day that we don't think about our dads. But I'm starting to recognise that each day comes with completely different emotions. I've just come back from a family games night with my mum, brother, sister and my dad's brother's family. It was a lovely evening. Lots of memories shared and lots of laughs, which I think is ok. Only on the drive home did the sadness come back. So I think a distraction is very helpful to have.

    Again, I hope you're well. Look after yourself. Thanks for taking the time to respond to me.

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember in reply to FormerMember

    Hello,

    Sorry to hear that you too are going through this at the moment. I definitely recognise the numb feeling you're experiencing. I've had it to a point where I have convinced myself that I could already be over it, but that doesn't last very long. I know it's all normal like you say, but can't help the guilt at the moment. I know it's irrational but I just can't shake it.

    I hope you're coping. Take care.