Not a bad view, however if I turned my head to the right I would see Joey’s hospital bed, and all of his “equipment”. On this particular morning I was able to look straight down and see this…
Joey (and Sardine) withOUT oxygen. A huge milestone that was accomplished our last night. I had no idea we were about to get discharged, not a one.
Our last 5 days were spent on “the floor”, the step down unit. We went from having our little glass room to being thrown in with the general population. Joey’s response to this? A sleep strike. He spent 48 hours psychotically smiling to anyone that would look at him – big, HUGE, almost scary, smiles.
Now we are home and, as you can probably tell, I am exhausted. It feels SO GOOD TO BE HERE, but it was a shock to my system. While in Boston, my responsibility was to stand for Joey – now we are home and it is back to filling a house full of needs. How, as mothers, do we DO this? How do we find a moment to breathe, or simply brush our hair? Maybe if I had two children who had similar physical needs it’d be easier. But I’m the mother of a 3 year old and a (almost!) six month old. After 2 weeks in the hospital, focusing primarily on Joey, I am feeling pulled from him and it HURTS.
We are all trying to re-calibrate to being home. Malcolm spent a fabulous time with a bunch of older cousins, and I am (of course) feeling guilty that he can’t experience that more, that I can’t give him older siblings. I’m not feeling like I can meet his needs. Chris is back at work, and also feeling pulled from home, from me, from Malcolm, from Joey.
I imagine that this time after surgery is just generally tough, last time I blamed in on postpartum hormones and the shock of having a baby that I was told wouldn’t live. Is it possible that I am still experiencing some PTSD? I think anytime your life changes with such impact that it simply shocks you and your entire system. At this point he’s been with us longer than we spent believing he wouldn’t be – I should probably give this some more attention.
I guess the harder I am on myself, the more compassion I’m finding for myself as well. A gift for sure.
This is SO not how I thought this post would go! With all of this comes the other side of the spectrum, the love, the gratitude, my unending faith in the miraculous nature of our world. When I was finally able to put Joey in the carrier, I felt him fall in to me with a breath that said “finally”. I became light headed and filled with endorphins I came awfully close to passing out. It was incredible. Clouds, me, walking on them. Sitting out front waiting for Chris – you saw that picture on FB. LOVE. Every person that walked by us slowed down just a fraction, I swear to you that they could feel it and wanted just a moment longer with us. Amazing, amazing love.