For those of you that know my husband, know that he is a penny pincher, and last Tuesday when I called him and he could hear Hannah's screams, his words were TAKE HER SOMEWHERE. This was not him - he has NEVER said anything like that. I threw things together and we left. I called my mom on my way out there, but she was headed into work. I called my dear friend and put her on standby for the morning to help Daddy with the kiddos (Thank you Mrs. Katrina and Baby Andrew for your help.) My mind was moving so fast. I honestly am not sure how we got to the first place and then subsequently the hospital. I was just moving and scared. . .
During everything, I wanted to cry. I wanted to sob. I wanted someone to comfort me instead of the other way around. But, I had to be strong. If I gave in and cried or lost it, Hannah would have seen my fear and that would have made things worse, which I did not want. Even when she was sleeping, I remained distracted. I prayed. I said the rosary. I read, or at least tried to. . .
When we had to go to the ultrasound or upstairs to a room, I chose to carry her as I did not want her out of my arms. She was right next to me at all times. I did not shower because the thought of leaving her, even for 5 minutes was not allowed. If I ran down to get something to eat, one of the nurses, techs, or even a friend sat with her. I did not so much as get a cup of coffee without her right there with me, which is not me. I am uptight about some things, but not like that. I was absolutely terrified. . .
On Wednesday morning, when she began to perk up, I found myself relaxing a bit more. While she still did not leave my side, I felt less anxious. Her pain was getting better, which resulted in me getting better. As the day went on, everything continued to improve. . .
The true test came at discharge. I was parked in the ER garage and they wheel patients out to the front of the hospital. This meant that I would have to leave her with the tech for 15 minutes so that I could retrieve the truck and drive it around. The entire time, my heart was racing - what if she has another attack while I am gone? What if something happens? Do they have my cell? Do I have my cell? Can I hear it? Then I saw her turn the corner in the yellow hummer/school bus wagon and I had to literally stop myself from running. . .
Our first night home, she slept with me part of the night and I stayed awake watching her every breath. My anxiety was still very present. Thursday, I was able to calm down a bit. She was acting more herself and that helped me greatly. I stayed brave and remained calm for her. . .
Finally, Thursday night, something happened that I had DESPERATELY needed - I talked to my parents. My mom was at work, so I could not talk to her, but I was able to talk to my Papa and the tears just flowed and flowed and flowed. For well over an hour I cried. All of the emotions that I had held onto came flooding out and it felt SO good. At one point, Hannah came in and asked me why I was sad. I tried to stop, but could not, so I explained to her that her tummy ache terribly scared mommy. That it was not her fault. That sometimes you have to cry to feel better. . .
Since then, I have had a good cry almost daily as I deal with this anxiety. Most of the time it is after everyone is in bed and I am alone. Or when I wake in the middle of the night and have to go check on my babies, but they are good cries. . .
Being a mommy is the hardest thing I have ever done. It requires so much - physically and emotionally. And I realize more and more everyday, just how true the saying, "It takes a village to raise a child" is!
No comments:
Post a Comment