Umbriel

Some crazy shit went down with that plastic surgeon, which I'll eventually get to. After having another MRI, it was clear that the implant was intact, not ruptured. The lump is just a lump of scar tissue. Scar tissue, no problem. I’ve got a lump in my boob that’s probably going to be there for good—no problem. I was just grateful that’s all it was.

My uncle Kevin was visiting from Vancouver in August, and somehow he managed to wrangle in whatever family we had, and we all met up at the CNE. It’s such a nostalgic place for me. That’s exactly where my uncles took me every summer when I was a kid—it holds a lot of history for me and my family. My grandfather actually had a hand in building the Flyer, and my uncles all worked there, at some point. When I was a teen, I also worked there for a summer or two. Carnies, hahahaha! So, having all of us together that day was very special indeed.

My uncles

I knew I had a grandchild on the way, due in September, but Kayla and I hadn’t spoken since May. She had a baby shower that was organized by her best friend. I was invited, but I didn’t receive the invite. I had my daughter blocked. Yes, blocked. As much as I love my daughter and care for her, I had learned to love myself, and that involved protecting myself. I put all of our stuff to the side, which involved her being blocked, so that I could continue and focus on the path I was on—healing.

I didn’t attend the baby shower, but I did send along quite a few items, regardless of whether I was going to have a relationship with my daughter or not. I was having a grandchild, and whether I met my grandchild in September 2024, or in 2030 or 2035, I was still that child’s grandmother. I knew that at some point, I would have a relationship with that child.

I’m well aware of the comments that were made by the host, implying that “The mother usually hosts their daughter’s baby shower!” Hi, hello—host, are you following along with the story at all? Ok good! 

I was the fucking bad guy everywhere I turned! No sympathy, no compassion, no help, and no understanding to be found anywhere outside of Anishnawbe and cardiac rehab. In my suffering and recovery, I was consistently made out to be the villain by my friends and family.

I ain’t begging sympathy from nobody—let me make that fucking clear! Even though I was a victim, on more than one occasion, I could only ever see the path of survival. You will never catch me playing the victim card. This is simply an observation; actually, it’s fucking facts!

I look at that shit now, and it blows my fucking mind how selfish and heartless people can be. An eye-opener indeed.

At this time in August, I was doing all of my tests again, with an appointment to see my cardiologist on September 27th to figure out where we were at. I did the tests, then saw the cardiologist three to four weeks later. I was literally living four months at a time, terrified of being told it was “go time” again. When I got cleared to go another four months, I felt like won the lottery!

In the meantime and in between time, I wanted to go to the beach and the only beach I had my sights on was in Cayo Coco. After the terrible experience I had there in April, being homeless on vacation, there was no way in hell I was going back to Memories Flemenco.

I upgraded. I went to the newest, most posh resort in Cayo Coco—Costa Del Mar.

My grandchild was due to arrive on September 18th. I reached out to Kayla sometime in August. I had come a long way by then and had been through so much. I felt strong enough mentally and emotionally to give it a whirl with her again. I had very low expectations.

She turned me down. With the baby coming in a few weeks, she made it clear that she had enough on her plate with her own budding family and wasn’t about to delve into our issues at that time.

I respectfully understood her position, wished her well, and carried on my way.

My trip was booked from the 8th to the 15th. My grandchild was due on the 16th. I figured I’d duck in and duck out before the baby was born and before I saw my cardiologist again. Being her first child and all, I figured there was a good chance the baby could be late.

It didn’t happen that way. On September 7th, around 5 PM, I received a text from my daughter informing me that I was a grandmother to a baby girl, born at 7 lbs. 11 oz., Umbriel Autumn Scott.

Umbriel Autumn Scott

Every single hair on my body stood up, and I started trembling. I didn’t have the privilege of being excited throughout her pregnancy, as Kayla and I didn’t have a relationship. People would reach out to congratulate me, and it was awkward as fuck! If I’m being honest, as vulnerable as I was at that time, I saw her child as one more thing she could use to hurt me. I had no clue how any of it was going to play out.

She shared some of her experience with me via text. I congratulated her on a job well done and asked if I could come visit. She said yes and told me where she was.

The trembling cranked up a few notches and stayed that way well into the evening. When I walked into the room, vibing like a motherfucker, I looked at my granddaughter, and she was fucking perfect! Aside from the hairline, she looked exactly like Kayla did when she was born—a beautiful baby girl.

I was trembling so hard. I was afraid to pick her up. I asked if I could, but I was nervous. Kayla said, “Go on, you’ve got two of your own. You know what you’re doing.” I held her, and there was no other feeling like it in the world. Umbriel was born on September 7th, Natalie’s birthday.

Born one day before I left for my trip—one week early.