Ok – so here’s a rather personal story that is adding to my up-and-down mood. This is kind of disjointed. My apologies.
So my Dad died in 2000. A heartbreaking turn of events that wasn’t unexpected but devastating just the same. He got Hep-C from a blood transfusion in the early 90’s and eventually it killed him. Very sad. Very frustrating. And it made me very angry.
To add insult to injury, due to the date of his transfusion, he was ineligible for the major compensation packages that were offered to other folks. Until now. So after 8 years, he’s (well, my sister and I have) finally received the go-ahead for compensation for the gross oversight on the part of the Red Cross that resulted in his death (and the death of thousands more).
What does this have to do with IVF? Well, today said cheque arrived – exactly one week before we’re due to pay for IVF #1. So after all this time, my Dad has provided for me once again. He was a single parent of two girls – an unusual position to have found himself in during the seventies. He took me to Mother/Daughter banquets, Mother’s Day Teas, took me to get my first ‘brassiere (I don’t even know how to spell brassiere)…and by took me I mean delivered me into the arms of the busty, glasses on a string around her neck sales woman at Sears, handed her his credit card, stuttered a bit and went off to find a coffee. When I was thinking about it the other day, I realized I never needed anything while he was around. I had a roof over my head, a car to drive when I needed it, clothes, food, an education, cool stuff I wanted more than I needed.
But starting a family. That’s a need I feel in my very core. It’s more than a want. And figuring out how to make it work moneywise was hard, but we had a plan. Little sacrifice here. Cut back there.
We’ve been waiting for this to be finalized for 8 years. Could have come any time. But the cheque has come now. In my time of need. And I am grateful for the timing. And I am thankful that the folks responsible have stepped up and taken responsibility.
But dammit – it’s also made me angry all over again. I miss him. Still. He’s the best Grandpa a kid never had.
He was Santa Claus and Superman in one. And has swooped in to rescue me and my husband (who he never had the pleasure to meet) again. Eight and a half years after we said good-bye for good.
I’m not a big one for signs. But if there was ever a moment to say ‘it’s a sign’ – this is it!
Thanks Dad. For everything. For every day I had the pleasure of your faith in me. Cross your fingers for us ok? I hope I’ll have the opportunity to be half the parent you were.
I miss you. Still. Every day. Especially today.