broken trust

He has lost confidence in me. It’s not that he blames me.. its just he doesn’t trust me the way he used to. He questions more.. He pushes more. He checks more.

I know he doesn’t blame me… but my husband doesn’t have faith in me.

He adored her. To the moon and back.. never was supposed to be heaven and back
He adored her. To the moon and back.. never was supposed to be heaven and back

It’s not on purpose. He likely doesn’t even know its happening to him.. to us. But it is. I have noticed it happening for awhile now. At first I told myself maybe it was just me being sensitive.. or him just being overly cautious. It’s a subtle change but a heartbreaking one.

And once I recognized it I have struggled to over come the shock of it.

The emergence of a new side effect of childhood cancer.. Because I don’t trust me either.

I haven’t heard others talk about it. . Are we the only ones??  I’d like to say no..

I always tell my friends to trust their gut. I always say first “what do YOU think?” But as I realized the truth for Tony, I realized it for me too.. I can’t even hear that instinct anymore. It is so buried with self doubt.

I don’t think I blame me.. I don’t think I really believe I could have done something different..

But maybe I do??

brokent2

Maybe we both do.. deep deep down.

Because I was her caretaker. Fulltime stay at home mom. HER mom. The one entrusted with raising her.

And I didn’t.

We both know that, we both have changed when it comes to medical things with our kids.

How did I get here? I thought I was a good mom?

I see his hesitation , even if its just momentary,  in following my choices to not take them to the doctor.. I see the flash of doubt when I tell him its just a cold. ..

It didn’t use to be that way. He used to blindly trust me to take care of our children. But we both know..

brokent1

…we both know…

I think we all knew. oh Jennifer

The way she looked at me. .. wanting me to save her. To fix this. The trust she had in me.

I feel like looking back now that dissipated over time. I think she knew her tumor never shrunk. I think she knew we put her through 7 weeks of treatments.. for nothing. (You can watch a video of one day of treatments here..)

In the end I kept telling her that this new medicine would stop her from throwing up. Nothing ever worked. She eventually stopped even trying to get a sip of water. I broke her trust in me. In the most fundamental of ways.

my only job was to take care of you.. to keep you alive.

I’m sorry my heart I am eternally sorry

I remember how she pushed me away for awhile. Was mean and angry at me. Hard and cold. But then she eventually softened.. I have always wondered why,

did you know?

did you feel like i was failing you?

did you forgive me then?

and soften.

do you forgive me now?

brokent4…until there is a cure..

11 Responses to “broken trust”

  1. Oh how I wish I was one of those people who always think of the right thing to say. Sadly I’m not, so I will simply say that when I see all the pictures you post of Jennifer and her beautiful brown eyes, those are the eyes of a happy, adored child and you’re the reason she had that light in her eyes. I hope that time will somehow restore the faith that you once had in yourself because I’m sure I’m not alone in believing that you did everything right and exactly what most moms would’ve done in the same situation. Jennifer and your family are forever in my thoughts and prayers.

  2. None of us knows what the future holds, Libby. Jennifer will again be in your arms someday reassuring you that you were a wonderful, loving mom. Hold that thought…until there is a cure

  3. You did your absolute best! You are the mom that dealt with her gluten issues and found treats for her. Gluten free items right down to the shampoo!! JLK wasn’t actually mad at you, but you were the closet target for her anger at what was happening to her body. Please please believe in yourself!

  4. Cancer won. It’s not your fault. We think modern medicine can do so much when sadly and oftentimes it can not. You are – and always have been – an amazing mother – and you always will be. You are enough. You did enough. Cancer won. It is not your fault.

  5. You were fighting an unstoppable monster, Libby. I wish there was something different you could have done but you never stood a chance. Even when you knew what you were fighting it was the unknowable and the unstoppable. I hope that won’t always be the case. That the work you and Unravel do will result in some sort of cure. But the fight you guys were in was never a fair one so, although I’m sure it’s natural and inevitable to beat yourself up, I hope you do realize that as well. <3

  6. She is with Jesus now, and she knows everything there is to know. Trust that she forgives you, and that she died and was carried to heaven in Jesus’s loving arms. One day, when you are reunited in heaven, you’ll know it too.

  7. Oh Libby. I wish I could take away your doubts and fears. I wish I could restore the faith in yourself that you once had. As if losing your daughter wasn’t enough, now you have to fear your own mind. I know until there is a cure all mothers like you will doubt. All mothers who have lost a child to this monster will always wonder what else they could have done. I don’t have an answer to know if that feeling will ever go away but I hope you know, deep in your core that you ARE a great mother. You always were a great mother. And that you did your job, you love/d Jennifer with every ounce of your being. THAT is being a good mother.

  8. I think this is the biggest fear all parents have — of missing something that we “should” have seen…that could have changed something. I don’t know anything to say to make you feel better outside of the fact that I think it’s entirely normal after going through something as vile and often hidden as cancer to feel like you missed some sign…but from all accounts I don’t think it’s like that with most childhood cancers…it oftentimes ends up looking like so many other things and then of course when it is found it’s often so far gone that it’s impossible to recover or gain any time. I don’t know you at all really but I can tell you are a good mama…you didn’t miss something — it just wasn’t there to see…I know it’s hard to trust yourselves again but your love for your kids is so obvious to me and honestly I think that love is what gets all of us through parenting — the good and the bad…

  9. Libby, your loss has also touched so many of us. So many now love you and your family. We might never had known you if things were different. That would not matter to you, but to those of us that are newly introduced to your family, there is now a place in our hearts occupied by Jennifer. Her loving spirit is seen in her pictures and her smiles. We are all stronger and more aware of those in need because you have shared her with us. No one blames you for Jennifer having that horrible cancer. Trust yourself and trust your mother instinct. You must be a remarkable mom! You are raising a family while educating us, organizing fund raisers and remaining a beautiful example of womanhood. Our family has Jennifer in our lives and she will always be there. God bless you and comfort you!

  10. Hey there. I check in with your blog ever month or two and found myself reading this post and wanted to share something.

    I’ve have cancer four times in my 31 years. Age 11, 21 and 25 (x2). When I was diagnosed at 21. I was newly married, had moved two states away from home, and we found out that I was very sick. When I was very scared and afraid for my life, I pushed everyone away. I pushed my husband away. The one that I loved more than any other. I was cold and distant and angry. You know why? Two reasons. One) I was sad and scared and didn’t know how to deal with it and it was easiest to take it out on someone that I knew would love me no matter what. I knew that he would love me no matter how hard I pushed him. And two) I did it because I knew that there was a possibility that I could die from the cancer and wanted to make it easier for him. Somehow I came to the conclusion that if I was mean to him and pushed him away, it would hurt him less when I was gone. Once i realized that I was wrong, we drew in closer, softened up, like Jennifer did.

    Cancer will fuck with your mind, friend. Even little ones, like sweet Jennifer. She wasn’t mad at you. She knew that you would love her even if she took her frustration and fear and placed on you. You didn’t fail her. You gave her a place to put her anger and sadness, you took that for her. What a gift you gave her, friend. You didn’t fail. I swear, you didn’t fail.

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