My name is Bianca Brombin and I’m 26 years old. I’m my Mom’s first born child. The bond between her and I was always indestructible, no matter what came our way. We always handled it together, that was until she was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia.
She was a young Mom and loved her job. She was always adventurous and was the first to suggest what we should do or where we should go for the day. When she was diagnosed I was 16 years old … those “beautiful” teenage years. I was going through changes and having a tough time at school, as all teenage girls do, but I had no idea that my Mom was going through a hard transformation of her own.
We struggled to understand each other. We were both completely separated in our lives. I didn’t understand why she was no longer the women I once knew so well, the happy, energetic, strong women that I knew my Mom to be. She was weaker, less happy, less able to take on obstacles that came her way. I never really understood why she was like this. I tried to do research about Fibromyalgia, but I still didn’t understand. I still think I don’t understand it at all.
As I got older and wiser, I took the time to learn more and talk to my Mom about her Fibromyalgia. I accepted that this is my Mom now and I need to be there for her in any way she needs me to be. It’s still hard, even though I try my best. It’s still hard when my Mom cancels plans because she’s in too much pain to get out of bed. It’s hard not to have my Mom, my best friend, join in on all the life experiences I get to have. From the biggest things like travelling the world to the smallest like a dinner.
Of course, we all feel Fibromyalgia in some way. We always have to remember not to squeeze her when we hug her. All I want to do is give her the biggest hug ever, just because I need it, or she needs it, or we both do. It’s hard to remember that whatever adventure I plan, I either have to go without my Mom or consider the fact that she may have to cancel or may just not be herself. For me personally, it’s been particularly challenging because my Mom and I have a very strong bond. I wish to include her in on all of my adventures and a lot of the time I’m unable to have her with me.
I read my Sisters post about my Mom’s Fibromyalgia and I want to steal her words. “I think of Fibromyalgia as a thief.” She couldn’t have said it better. It’s indeed a thief. A thief of what was once an enjoyable life, what was once purposeful. A thief of a happy life.
It leaves the person sad, in absolute pain and it’s just not fair. It’s devastating and tragic knowing that she’s sick, yet there is nothing I can do to help or change it.
Although my Mom has this thief that took over her life, she still shows so much strength, still shows us her beautiful smile and still tries to push herself to the max whenever she can. We appreciate her so much. She’s one of the strongest women I know and is my role model. I’m grateful for the fight she gives every single day as I know most days are very challenging. I love her and I’m so blessed to call her my Mom!
I truly hope they find a cure for this thief!