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Commencement Tears


Some time in June....
Nadia graduated yesterday, and I cried--not because of the significance of the moment (it's only pre-school, and I'm not that sappy!), but because I wondered if I would see another graduation for her--if, in 13 years, she'd be alive and part of the graduating class of 2023! [Okay, that year was weird to write.] 

Something was way wrong with me yesterday.  I mean, who loses it at a routine visit to the gyno?  Of course, most people don't go to those visits planning to learn that their daughter will never have children, either.  I suppose I should have known that, logically.  I knew that boys with cf are sterile.  By the time a person with cystic fibrosis is of realistic (out of their teens!) child-bearing age, her health is likely to have deteroriated to the point that pregnancy is out of the question--a danger to the mother, if she is physically able to get pregnant at this point (low weight causes a host of reproductive issues).  I know Nadia is only four, but she loves to play mom and teacher, by turns sweet and patient with her "children" and bossy and instructive.  She has spoken of being a mother.  When I ask her what she wants to be when she grows up, she answers, besides Nadia, that she wants to be a mommy like me.  I know that she may change her mind, that she may understand her limitations and accept them far better than I do, that there's always adoption.  But I fear she might go the route of Shelby in Steel Magnolias.

I was so unprepared to face this fact yesterday.  And I could tell that my doctor thought I'd already known.  For now, we've been dealing with the basics--getting her weight to 30 pounds, stopping the rectal prolapses via the correct dosage of enzymes and Prevacid to keep stomach acid from making these less effective, and a high calorie diet (read:  a shake with breakfast, 3 snacks, lunch, and dinner).  We've been working with teaching her how to avoid germs by using copious amounts of hand sanitizer, frequent hand washing, and not sharing food or drinks with others.  She's a pro at coughing in her elbow!

Also, my OBGYN asked me if I wanted to get my tubes tied.  At very nearly 31, knowing that I do want another child, I can't take that step just yet, though I also know that Jef and I won't roll the di and see what happens, either.  But there are other ways.  I'll be 36 by the time my soon-to-be-inserted new IUD is removed--I should hopefully have had my doctorate for two years.  My mother was the same age (36) when she had Laci--and if things are going well financially and so forth--who knows?  I've never felt that two children are enough.

So I wept at a pre-school graduation and felt like a fool and tried to hide it.  Nadia looked so grown up wearing her white cap and gown (incidentially the same colors I wore when I graduated high school).  Her cap (a size small) was still so big for her head that her teacher had to staple it several times and it still kept falling off during her performances.  Her tassle is a minature version of the one I just received from ASU for completion of my EdS, and it now hangs, intertwined with mine, from my rearview mirror.

The highlight of the evening--when Nadia went to her classroom after the ceremony and held center stage during her photo shoot with her friends, her skirt fell off in the middle of class as she danced around.  Thank God she was wearing underwear for once!


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A week after this, the stress triggered shingles, an ailment I battled with all summer.  Now that school has started back and Nadia is in kindergarten, I am feeling better--for now.
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