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Hello fellow community in mourning, I’m reaching out to other parents who have experienced the loss of a child, in the hope of shared support.
The waiting list for counselling is so long, I’m drowning in sorrow meantime.
I may not be able to offer much just yet as I’m deeply depressed but can promise to listen and empathise with each and all of your stories.
To introduce myself, I am a mother of 4 (now 3) adult children. Recent empty-nester, was already struggling with the loneliness that entails.
My nickname is Jezza, as that is how my friends’ called my 19yr old son Jeremy, who died on the 20th Dec just passed.
Yes his death was unexpected, but we have all lived the last 9 years with baited breath as he experienced so many struggles in his short life, almost half of which was spent in and out of Westmead Childrens, more recently St Vincents’ Hospital. I’ll share a recap:
My son was diagnosed with leukaemia when he was 10 yrs old. Had 18 months of intense chemo, total body irradiation, but sadly relapsed so needed a bone marrow transplant, which his twin sister was a good match for. Developped gvhd (rejection) of the lungs, needed to go on the transplant list. Gratefully had a double lung transplant last January, his health improved amazingly. Got back into skating, got a job, even his first girlfriend ! He was feeling so good, got sick of taking 30 meds per day, missed a couple for a day or two, thought he could catch up, but the rejection process of his new lungs was unstoppable and he died within 3 weeks. This was not meant to happen !!
I’m really struggling with all the emotions that come with grief, coupled with longstanding depression being bipolar. One of the hardest is ‘mummy guilt’, wishing I could have prevented this. Insert swear words, covid meant less check-ups, hospital support and prevented me from visiting him and his twin sister. I could only hand home-cooked meals (as mums do) over the balcony. If, the forever, if ?!, he’d been living at home with me still, I could have supervised his medication maybe, but he was always so very diligent in taking them, no-one suspected he’d ever skip a few…?
I want to support my daughter (just quietly – wished she moved back home) but she needs her space. She just moved from their shared apartment to a share house. She dropped off Jeremy’s clothes recently. Buried my head in them on their birthday last week. I sob all day long, it’s exhausting.
From all my years in hospital, I find the best comfort with others who have similar experiences, so here’s hoping my story connects with someone. Thank you for listening XX
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