Bryan and I were in the adoption process when he became paralyzed in December of last year. The expectant mother we were matched with chose to parent, which was probably best for all involved--we certainly could not have become new parents at that point in our lives. Now that he's gone and I'm no longer his caregiver, I have so many emotions about becoming a parent--I know that it would not be the world's best decision to become a parent on my own this soon after his death, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it. I have a whole nursery ready to go. I was IN that phase of life. Now I don't know when I'm going to be a mom.
Hi. This is my first post. My husband died on August 19, 2016. It was sudden but it was after a long bout of illness and injury. He had Marfan syndrome, a genetic connective tissue disorder that causes problems with numerous body systems, including the eyes, lungs, skeletal system, and heart. In December 2015 he underwent planned surgery to repair an abdominal aortic aneurysm. This surgery left him paralyzed from the chest down. The surgery and the recovery caused him to have tremendous digestive issues, including a perforated stomach in January 2016, and an inability to eat without intense nausea that was never successfully diagnosed before he died. He also ended up with multiple pressure ulcers that became infected. On the day he died, I called 911 because he'd been vomiting for 6 hours straight (10 hours after being discharged from the hospital) and he had become very short of breath. They admitted him to the hospital suspecting sepsis (infection of the bloodstream). They did a CT scan and found air in the wall of his abdomen, and took him in for emergency surgery. That was when they discovered that his entire intestinal system was necrotic, a condition that was not compatible with life, in the surgeon's words. I miss him so much. I feel so guilty that there are things I couldn't do when I was his caregiver, and now I can do them, and I want to, but I don't want the reason I can do them to be that he's gone. I can't believe he's gone. I keep noticing things I want to tell him. I'm angry at the doctors, at the hospital, at everyone. I know that he was suffering so much for the last 8 months, and we did the right thing taking him off life support, but that doesn't make it any easier. Literally until the day he died, I continued to believe that he would eventually get better. He was 32, and I'm 31. We were together from the time I was 18, and married for the past 8 years. I don't even know what to do with myself. We were in the adoption process when he had his surgery--we were matched with an expectant mom and she was due in January. A few weeks before she had the baby, she decided to parent. Ultimately, that was probably for the best, because I was so busy caring for Bryan that I was in no way capable of also caring for a newborn. We put the process on hold, waiting until his health improved. So much for that. So he never got to be a dad, and he would have been a great dad. When I say stuff like "my husband died" or "my husband passed away" or when I talk about that horrible day, I can't believe that I'm actually saying it about my life. It feels like someone is going to say "ha ha! just kidding."