{ Motherless Daughters } uniting those experiencing motherloss

Our Stories

Zorica's Story

My name is Zorica and I lost my mum, just over 6 months ago. She didn’t even get to reach her 47th birthday, which is something that saddens me immensely.

My story begins in July 2002. For years, my mother had been suffering with back pain. The last few months prior to this, she was in so much pain that she was always lying on the couch- exhausted. Numerous visits to the doctors overs the years dismissed her problem as simple back pain and she was given medication for this. Then she developed a puckering/dimpling of the skin on her arms and legs. Again, the doctors didn’t take her seriously. After watching her suffer for so long, I suggested that she go down to our local emergency department and find out why she was in so much pain. It was not normal to see a person- who was normally so lively- forced to rest from the agony.

When we arrived at the emergency department, they initially thought she had pneumonia, she was so pale and lacking energy. Further tests revealed that she did not, in fact, have pneumonia. She was admitted in to hospital as they could clearly see she wasn’t well, but they didn’t have an explanation for it yet. My mother stayed in hospital for 2 weeks- numerous tests were conducted. On the 29th of July 2002, we finally got our answer. My mum had breast cancer. Two days after this, they told us the full story- it was advanced breast cancer which had already spread to her bones (including her spine which accounted for her back pain). My family and I were crushed. I felt like I was responsible for putting her is this predicament because I forced her to go to hospital. I told her how I felt once, and she told me she was glad she knew- at least she had an answer for her pain and she could now get proper help.

The next 3 years went by in a blur of radiation therapy, medication and visits to the oncologist. I got married in October 2004 and my mum was well then- her cancer had gone down, she had her own hair still and it was the happiest I had ever seen her. Back to her normal self- so happy and full of life. She was the life of the party at my wedding- and that is how I try to remember her. But shortly afterwards, things turned for the worse.

In mid 2005, she started chemotherapy, under the oncologist’s recommendation. The radiation therapy was no longer working and this was suggested as the best course of action for her. She lost her hair, and we watched her suffering before our eyes. I have a photo of her in her little blue head scarf with a smile on her face that I will treasure forever. This was in taken on the 18th of June 2005. Little did I know at the time, that in just over 3 months, my mother would be gone from my life forever.

The last few weeks before she passed away, she spent her time in palliative care. She had developed fluid in her stomach- a side effect of chemotherapy. Her stomach was pumped two times, and each time the amount of fluid removed increased. She looked like she was pregnant and could barely walk. She was assisted to the toilet and with other things she was required to do. But it was amazing to watch her strength and courage. I have never known anyone to show such power in the eye of adversity. She was proud of herself when she managed to walk further than the day before.

Still I wasn’t fully aware of how bad things were. I kept believing my mum would get better. I visited her every day after work. I still kept working full time even after what was happening! Then her doctor from palliative care called me and told me that things were pretty serious and she would like us all to meet with her as a family to discuss these serious matters. A meeting was scheduled for Monday the 20th of September 2005 at 2pm. I visited my mum on the Saturday before this, I was so distressed on the drive there (I was with my dad and my sister) that we had a car accident. Nothing too serious luckily, but the car was definitely damaged. We agreed to keep it from mum, as she had enough to worry about. When we got there, she was asleep and the three of us took a deep breath. She looked so bad, we all thought she was dead. She opened her eyes as she heard us come in. We talked to her and generally tried to make her feel better. My sister and I said we would see her again on Monday for the meeting.

While at work on Monday morning, I got the call I was dreading. My sister was hysterical, bawling on the phone. She advised me that mum’s body was shutting down and she couldn’t open her eyes. She was unresponsive. My boss at work drove me straight to the hospital (I wasn’t driving my car due to the damage). When I arrived there, her doctor told us that this was the day. Her body was shutting down and she would pass away- today. I was unprepared for this. I mean, I expected it to some degree, but how does one ever fully come to terms with losing their mother? The glue that keeps the whole family together? The doctor apologised- saying she didn’t expect it to happen so soon. She went to sleep fine on Sunday night but woke up unresponsive on Monday. She said if she had have known, she would not have scheduled the meeting for that day, it would have been earlier. But how could she have predicted that?

We called our extended family- aunts, uncles etc. Every one got their chance to say good bye, even though my mum couldn’t respond. I do believe that she could hear us though, because when my sister was speaking to her, she tilted her head in her direction. I couldn’t stop crying and holding my mum’s legs- I was at the foot of her bed. At 1.45pm, my mum passed away. We all agreed that she was trying to be strong to hold out somehow for our 2pm meeting. I often remember the image of my mum with a rose on her pillow by her head when she left this world. It felt like looking at an empty shell- I could not feel her spirit in that body any longer. It didn’t make it any less painful though.

After that day, my heart died and I keep longing to hug her and talk to her- but I can’t. I’d love to tell her about my shopping adventures (which she would love going on with me). I would love to tell her about all of the things I have done around my home and to see her happy expression, but that will never be.

Mother loss is so difficult and it is something that I will be dealing with for the rest of my life. I have so many things that I would love to share with her- especially the birth of my first child (whenever that may happen in the future). I am 25 years old, and I am at the stage where most people are very close to their mother- past the teenage argument years. The stage where your mother is your best friend. We had such a short time in this phase. Losing your mother isn’t just about losing a parent- it’s about losing your best friend- the person who loves you unconditionally no matter what. She was so selfless- always caring for others more than herself. My sister and I always talk about her in loving terms- she will remain in our hearts always. I love you mum.

© Zorica

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