For some reason, when I unplugged my old computer and started using this lap-top, I couldn't get my blog to let me up-date. I tried many weeks in a row and finally gave up. I figured that when Andy finished building my new desk and I plugged my old computer in I would finally be able to blog.
The desk isn't done but after the events of the last 2 weeks I thought I'd try one more time to blog on this computer.
Quick up-date...Lydia turned one, 2 days ago...she has been walking for two months already, the kids are loving school, the big boys are doing baseball, Andy is coaching it, Halloween was good and bad, with a great trunk or treat the weekend before David's oblation procedure, and actual Halloween night spent with David in the hospital (after a terrifying ER visit due to SVT) and the kids trick-or-treating with Me-ma and Paw-pa.
The time off from blogging has been good for me. I've had the chance to stop reflecting so much and start re-grouping. I realized a few things about my coping and have tried my best to change the negative. I want to share one today.
When I found out about David's condition..I mean really found out, I was heart broken. I had dozens of emotions but I mentally felt I understood. I didn't feel the why me..I felt shocked, but I knew what I believed. That being that we are here on earth sent from living with our Father in Heaven to learn to be more like Him, to be tried and by so doing to gain experience and understanding that we couldn't develop in our wonderful heavenly home. I knew God wasn't punishing me, but teaching
me. Some lessons are so very painful. Because of my core belief I didn't feel angry with God.
Time passed, we went through surgeries and close calls, and agony as we watch David struggle. We finally came home with him. Later, David was accepted in a medical program that would help with the medical bills he would acquire in the future. We still had 7 surgeries and 3 months of ICU to pay on but any future bills would be mostly covered. Such a HUGE blessing! One of the parts of this medical program that I struggled with was the required use of a home health nurse. I had a nurse come 2x a month and as sweet as she was, I hated that she had to come. I hated that I had to report on his doctors visits, that she had to check his vitals and bug him. We also started David with ECI. He was 7 months old before he could tolerate tummy time and was very delayed. I hated the way David would clam up when the ladies in scrubs would walk into our home. "Does he respond?" "Can he smile?" they asked. I looked over to see my sweet normally observant and interactive son, staring off unresponsive. "Yes he smiles, he just doesn't like new people." He would get all stiff and edgy. All the appointments were emotionally exhausting. I hated having to tell when he last pooped and what color it was! I hated all the questions and observations and intrusions!
One day I was fuming (in my mind) as I did the dishes, mad about some supplies that weren't in when we needed them and some pharmacist who had filled the wrong prescription again. And why did the pediatrician want to see him when we just got back from Pulmonology and they gave us the meds we needed and David didn't need to be exposed to all the junk at the pediatricians office when he was sick anyway! I was just so irritated all the time at everyone having to do with David's medical care.
That's when I went to my room and started praying and crying. I told Heavenly Father how angry I was! Why did they always want to poke him and mess with him, and look him over like a specimen. As I finally cleared my mind and humbled my heart (a little), Heavenly Father helped me understand that I was grieving and taking it out on the people who were only trying to help me take care of David. Despite what I thought, they only want what's best for him, and despite my innate desire to protect him from any unnecessary pain and trauma..they weren't TRYING to traumatize him..and that makes all the difference.
I have worked really hard on forgiving the nurse who threw away my tediously pumped breast milk, the nurse who sliced David's belly trying to remove a stitch, the freak-out charge nurse who stormed in the room in the middle of the night and tried to put David on O2 because of a small (normal) coughing spell. I try to be understanding of the care partner who was given orders to wake up my sleeping child at 4 am, strip him down and weigh him, and of the nurse who lost the labs that took 20 min to get and wants to re-draw them. Understanding, not hostile, but assertive and kind. I'm still working on it..and this recent round of hospital stays has given me more to work on, but I don't feel so angry any more. This is David's life and I can help him and support him or I can make it harder on him by stressing and overreacting. I must protect him from unnecessary intervention, but also from becoming angry like I was. I'm sure he'll have his struggle with it, but maybe I'll have figured out how to help him through and been an example of understanding on both sides.
