Blythe has been home from the hospital for over two weeks now.
She’s much better, physically. Emotionally, she and I are both still feeling pretty raw.
She’s been having nightmares about the hospital.
When she was there, bad things happened when she went to sleep. And so, even though she’s home and safe, she fights sleep with all her might.
Her first few nights home, she woke up screaming every few hours, and managed to lose her voice.
Lately, she’s been asking us to “stay” at bedtime. And so we do.
We stay up half the night, and then wake up a couple of hours later when she crawls into bed with us.
We snuggle her and tell her she’s home, and safe.
*****
I dream, too.
My dreams are so vivid, that I wake up unable to breathe.
I’m afraid.
I wish I could say I’m not, but I am.
Today, I feel incapable of protecting my daughter.
I try so very, very hard.
But danger – whether it be in the form of corn or a virus – lurks everywhere.
I am overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of what we’re fighting against.
It’s us against the world, it seems, and I’m so scared.
Terrified, really.
She’s my baby, and she’s counting on me to keep her safe.
But what happens if I can’t?
The answer to that question… it taunts me in my dreams.
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8 replies on “Recovery”
Hug and more hugs, love. I know EXACTLY how you feel. I can’t let my head go there or I will never sleep and dissolve into a quivering mess of fear. I’m guessing this fear is present for all parents, but I think it affects mom’s especially and special needs kids = exponential magnification.
Add into that mess the fact that you don’t want to create a phobic child consumed by fear of germs & illness or a hermit-child with no social interaction, and….Oy. Just…Oy. {head explodes}
All I can offer is a completely sympathetic ear, a heap of understanding, and giant, squishy hugs.
xoxox
First, I send hugs. Second, just to all that you feel you can and have faith that the rest will be taken care of. Love her the best you know how and remember that at least she’ll always know that you do.
All we can do in life is our best and it sounds to me like that’s exactly what you’re doing. I know it’s frustrating and you want to blame yourself, but don’t.
It will take time, experience, and a lot of mother’s intuition to find that happy medium between living in a bubble and living in constant fear.
This is going to take time to recover from what you experienced in the hospital. Allow yourself that time to heal and move forward.
And always, like PsychMama said, there are many of us with kids who have food allergies and we’re always there if you need to talk.
Lots of hugs and love coming your way.
Gah. *HUGS*
Oh, sweet sweet lovely person. The fact that you want to take care of her puts you so far ahead of some mothers. She is lucky to have such a concerned and loving parent. You are paying attention, you are full of love, and you are working at it. You are doing everything that you can, you can’t expect more. She is safe with you.
Even though I don’t personally know you, I DO know you are doing everything in your power to keep that baby girl safe. As much as it must terrify you, you are doing wonderful things for her and are an amazing mommy.
First, let me acknowledge that your daughter’s medical issues are much more serious than most of us have to deal with on a daily basis. I don’t want you to think I’m minimizing what you go through. The reality, though, is that all parents feel like you do — just on a different scale. I worry about this all the time. What if something terrible happens and I cannot protect the girls? Whenever a child is harmed, I imagine it might be the girls. I always tell them Mommy and Daddy will protect them, but what if we cannot? It’s the most terrifying part of being a parent.
[…] read the story from a year ago, go here, here and here although, reading those posts again, a year later, I left out so much of what happened. […]