The past two years have been filled with some of the greatest challenges of my life.
Oct. 2008 - Andrew's lung biopsy, Alexander recovered from pneumonia, Alex's febrile seizure, Andrew diagnosed with sarcoidosis
Nov 2008 - found out I was pregnant, the next 29 weeks felt like the flu and included a fun Zofran pump which required me to poke myself with a needle several times a day
May 2009 - hospitalized on magnesium sulfate for preterm labor, Gabriel's cardiologist appt
June 25, 2009 - Lane, our third child but only daughter, entered the world too early by emergency Csection.
29 days of NICU life for Lane while recovering from surgery
Lane home from the hospital with a monitor for 5 months
Aug 2009 - Alex will need surgery after he turns 5 years old
various ct scans, heart appointments, other dr appts for Andrew
Feb 2010 - Gabriel diagnosed with autism, Lane spent 3 days in the hospital
various appointments for Lane to figure out seizure and apnea activity
May 2010 - Gabriel's cardiologist appt
Sept 2010 - my emergency appendectomy
Oct 2010 - heart testing for me
Nov 2010 - visit to Mayo for Andrew
Of course, these are just the challenges listed here. Along with every day life, we had wonderful visitors, parties, play dates, births of other friend's children, vacations to Miami, Daytona Beach, Atlanta, Knoxville, Minneapolis, Wisconsin, holidays, and much more... it's the challenges that finally shattered me a few weeks ago.
On June 25, 2009, Lane entered the world. It was a glorious day yet I was sobbing as I was getting prepped for surgery. It was much too soon and she would share my grandmother's birthday. My grandmother has been gone for three years but I think about her almost every day. I had planned on finding a way to honor her by naming her after my grandmother but arriving on her birthday was poetry in itself.
I thought I knew what it would be like to deal with a premature child. My brother was born prior to 28 weeks and he's now 29 years old. Clearly, I had the experience to deal with the monitors, the beeping, the uncertainty. I was wrong. Even though science has come a long way, and the odds of a 33 week baby being okay, I didn't have a clue what it would feel like to have a newborn in the intensive care unit. I was now the mother of that newborn, not the 8 year old sister.
Those 29 days were the longest of my life. My world was turned upside down. My friends told me that they couldn't believe how strong I am. I wanted to yell ... "Strong?? I am not strong! I'm doing what I have to every day and barely functioning. YOU are holding a piece of me and together you are all holding me together."
As I drove the same roads to the hospital, I cried. Andrew was concerned that I was crying too much in the NICU so I tried to get it out of my system in that short drive. I walked the same worn path several times a day to the NICU. I knew where my cell phone would stop working. I knew which elevator was the fastest and which volunteer would greet me at the door. Even though it was summer, my hands were dry from the constant washing. I was terrified that I would bring in a single germ that would keep my new baby from coming home.
I was exhausted. Even though she wasn't home, I was still getting up every two hours to pump. There is nothing more empty than pumping in the middle of the night while your baby isn't in your arms.
I spoke to someone recently who had a similar experience and she told me that she was in a bubble for a year and a half after her preemie was born. She was right - I feel like I'm finally getting out of my bubble. I barely knew what has been happening in Sioux City, much less in the world around me. I think the bubble has burst. I am surfacing and I hope everyone understands why I couldn't respond to each person who contacted and helped us.
The bitterness of unbroken promises is finally fading as well. I struggled with why I was so selfish and bitter. The promises of material things shouldn't leave an adult bitter for such a long period of time. I finally realized why this was the case. Those material things were tangible items. If people had taken time to send them, they would have told me that they cared about our friendship. They would have shown me that they thought my daughter was coming home.
Thank you, my friends, for holding me together. I have been humbled and I am grateful. Please forgive me for being unattached and selfish.
