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I was nine; I didn’t understand why my parents didn’t have any children of their own。 Then my father explained that they had tried many times; but they were unsuccessful。 Part of the reason was that my mom had diabetes。 Since I was young; I didn’t really understand what that meant。 As I was growing up; I would see my mom give herself shots and wonder why she was the only one who had to do that。 All I saw every day was a strong; beautiful; healthy woman; who spent her life helping people。
When I was thirteen; everything changed。
It started with a tiny blister on my mom’s toe。 This may seem like no big deal; but she ended up losing her toe。 Soon she suffered a stroke; and just as she began to recover from that; her leg had to be amputated。
This all took place over three years。 The toll this took on my family was unbelievable。 My mom was in and out of five hospitals; each doing their best to help her。 Sometimes she was home for a few months; but something always seemed to go wrong。 When the holidays came; my father; my sister and I spent the day in her hospital room。 One Thanksgiving we ate turkey there; and another Christmas we brought all our presents to the hospital so she could see us open them。
I tried my hardest to make her feel better; but nothing helped。 At home; taking care of my little sister became my iob; along with cleaning the house; doing the laundry and cooking the meals。 I thought it was unfair; and took it out on my father。 I hated the fact that all my friends went out on Friday nights; while I had to stay home and play “Mommy”。
It was even harder for me to go to school while my mom was lying in the hospital。 By now; I was sixteen。 Luckily she was there for my birthday party; and I’ll never forget hugging her as tears f