A weighty family matter

Tonight I shall continue the story of my sister and her life - my last post finished with the birth of her son and a mention of her depression. 

In the months following the birth of my nephew, my brother was diagnosed with a second brain tumour and began further treatment, Christmas came and went, I gave birth to my first child, my brother's tumour stopped responding to treatment and shortly after the birth of his son, he lost his fight for life. My sister, sister-in-law and I used to meet up weekly with our babies. We'd have lunch, chat and try to be a comfort to each other. We were all grieving in very different ways. I don't really remember much of that time, lost in that haze of bereavement but I know there were times when we laughed and times that we cried.

During this time my sister's depression was increasing and her dependency on others was also increasing. She was drowning in grief and it wasn't just grief for my brother but also for the life she once had, the life that she thought she'd had, the happy daughter that had been stolen from her, the security that she'd once known. My parents went away and my sister's dependence switched heavily to me and my sister in law and lost in our own grief, and trying to deal with being parents, we didn't handle it very well. We argued, over something ridiculous really, but that afternoon my sister attempted to take her own life. I will be forever grateful that she didn't succeed that day, and forever grateful to those that helped me and her. It took me a long time to forgive my sister for what she'd tried to do and for me to gain more understanding of depression and helplessness that she must have felt. I can remember the relief that I felt when I collected my parents from the airport, that it wasn't my responsibility anymore. I'm not very proud of how I handled things back then. Over the coming months my sister had counselling and she got better. It wasn't a sudden thing, it was a gradual process and sometimes she'd have backward steps along the way. The good days eventually outweighed the bad. Time passed, we healed but we continue to grieve and that will never change. My sister has a new partner now and life has changed a lot from that dark time. 

Whilst my sister was battling the dark cloud of depression, my eldest niece was fighting battles of her own. She'd fought her father in court and "won" but the scars left behind were far deeper. It wasn't a simple case of getting him behind bars and that was that. She was entitled to counselling from the NSPCC because of her father but she wasn't able to have it until after the court case. It took a year for it to get to court so by the time she went to counselling, she'd reached a stage of locking everything deep inside her. She was too old for a child counsellor and too much of a teenager to really open up to anyone new. When she turned 18, we discovered she had an eating disorder. She's now 21 and has just recently been admitted as an inpatient into a unit for people with eating disorders. My sister is documenting her experiences in a blog of her own http://psychomum-todaystheday.blogspot.com/ so I'm not going to do the same. Life with someone with an eating disorder puts more pressure on a family than I ever imagined.

I mentioned in my first post that my sister fell off her pedestal for me when I was 12 years old. And I am sure I have raised some memories for my sister that have been difficult, she may well be wondering what I think of her now. She has faced a parent's worst nightmare and she has always been there for her children even when they have pushed her to the absolute limit. I have only touched on some of the things that she has faced. She doesn't consider herself a strong person but she is one of the strongest people I know. When I was 12, the sister I held on my pedestal was not really my sister but just who I imagined her to be. My sister is not perfect, who is? She still on occasion battles depression but she's winning the fight. I am proud to call her my sister. I am proud of how she has handled things, especially the last few years. Life has dealt her a difficult hand but she remains big hearted, generous, kind, and steadfastly loyal to her family and friends. She is an amazing person and I am honoured to be a part of her life. So sis, chin up and lets take on the next battle together, hand in hand. 

Part 2

It's possible I may have concerned my sister with which direction this series about her and her family might take but she need not worry, all will become clear. However in order to alleviate her worry, I have decided to continue the tale this evening. 

Yesterday I told you how we found out that my niece had been abused by her father and our lives changed forever. Naturally the police and social services were involved, however it took over a year to get her father behind bars. During that year, we rallied together as a family but it was almost too big for us to handle. During that time we first discovered that my brother was ill, and I was planning my wedding. My sister made the arrangements to sell the house that they had once shared as there was no way she could afford it on her own and started the wheels in motion for divorce.Now I get a little hazy as to the order in which things happened but during that year my sister sold the house she had once shared and her ex-husband halted the sale at the last moment, despite being in prison at the time. The result instead was that the house was repossessed but even that was not the process it should have been. As you might imagine with all this going on at the same time as my brother being desperately ill, my niece struggling with everything that had happened to her and the court case at which she testified, life for my sister was incredibly stressful and quite frankly awful. I was really quite worried about her at this time - she had some friends that I just wasn't sure about and she was going out a lot, drinking a lot. Frankly though it was nothing to do with me, there was nothing specific to worry about and goodness knows she needed the break. Everything just felt a little bit crazy. And then she discovered she was pregnant and it was as if the baby was sent to bring her life back on track. It might seem crazy to some but I truly believe that this baby came for a reason, despite all the odds. He came to give her hope again and to remind her of the future still there waiting. That it wasn't all hopeless as it all must have seemed. 

Life that had been so crazy seemed to settle back down. She still had the repossession to deal with and as I said that didn't happen as it should have done. Everything took a long time to happen, longer than it should have done. There were no guarantees that she would be housed, that she could be initially placed in a bed and breakfast with her three children, whilst pregnant. Thankfully when the day finally came, she was housed and by some miracle she was housed directly opposite my house. That evening her waters broke and the next day her second son was born. I was her birth partner and that day is very precious in my memory. I was already pregnant with my first daughter at this time, and my sister in law was also pregnant and I was looking forward to us all having babies so close in age to each other. 

At this time it felt to me like life was on the up, or at the very least was settling to a new kind of normal. My sister was beginning a new life which seemed more hopeful than it had just a week earlier, my brother was doing well, I was excited about my new baby...life was full of hope. The truth was very different - my sister was battling severe depression and my brother was shortly to be diagnosed with a second tumour. 

An unexpected pain

Anyone who has lost someone they love will know what I mean when I talk about the occasions where it hits you smack in the chest with a reminder of who you have lost, completely unexpectedly. There are of course the days that you know will be more difficult; the anniversaries, the birthdays, special occasions. You also know sometimes from the moment you wake up, that today is going to be a bad day, where the ache of missing them is as bad as the day you lost them. People tell you it gets better with time and that is both true and a lie. It's true that the fog lifts, and you are more able to function with every day that passes. However it's a lie that the pain lessens....at least that is the case for me.

I feel like I've started this post a little back to front as I am sure I have readers that don't know my history. My brother died in May 2006. He had a brain tumour that he just couldn't beat, despite his very best efforts. In spite of the fact that he'd been ill for some time, and we'd been told there was no more they could do, it still hit like a sledge hammer when he died. His wife had given birth to their son just two days previously, whom he sadly never met and it felt incredibly unfair. At the time, my eldest daughter was just 10 weeks old, and my sister's youngest son was just 8 months old so I don't know whether or not that made it feel worse to us, that he never got to meet his son. I have a very treasured photo of my brother holding my daughter but at the same time I almost feel guilty about having it at all. I could talk on and on about my brother - about his qualities and his faults but suffice to say I miss him just as much today as I did on the day he died.

Today at Uni I had one of those sledgehammer moments where the pain hit me hard in the chest completely unexpectedly. We were sat in our Ethics seminar talking about ethical decisions and one of the topics under debate was the case of Diane Blood who went to court to fight for the right to use her deceased husband's frozen sperm in order to conceive. The issue of consent was discussed and the fact that her late husband had not given consent for his sperm to be used if he should die but he also hasn't specified that he wouldn't want it to be used. When my brother was first diagnosed with a brain tumour and he and his wife knew that he was going to have chemotherapy, they made the decision to freeze some of his sperm knowing that they were planning to have a family. It is now an automatic part of the "service" to ask whether or not consent is given for the sperm to be used in the event that they pass away. My brother has given permission for it to be used so my sister-in-law will never have to fight for her rights there. However there are still a number of issues surrounding her actually using it so I know that it will never be an easy nor straightforward decision for her.

Anyway sitting in class today and listening to these debates going on around me on this topic; the rights of the deceased husband's parents, the rights of the children, the rights of Diane Blood. It hit me bang in the chest, that it could easily have been a conversation about my brother and his wife. Due to the fact that I didn't know my fellow students before beginning the course, they of course had no idea about my brother. Actually come to think of it, I don't think many people know about his frozen sperm....and why would they? Is it anything to do with anyone else?

It's made me think about my brother obviously but it's also made me think about the fact that we all bring our own histories and it isn't always obvious what someone has experienced. I believe that no-one should be taken at face value and that our experiences shape us and our opinions on things. Sometimes it is good to challenge yourself and think about why you think what you do? Where has it come from? If you explore it more deeply, is it what you truly think? Just to put this into perspective; I grew up believing that all terminations were wrong. I had never really thought about why I felt like this - was it my upbringing, my religion, how I really felt? Ultimately of course, I can only make a decision about what is right for me, and as a midwife, I need to be able to support women in their decisions without judgement. Therefore how I feel is somewhat irrelevant, providing it doesn't affect the care that I give. And that goes for anything not just terminations.

I feel a little like I have rambled my way through this post but I would like to share this very precious photo of my brother David, holding my daughter.