There have been more than a few bad days lately. Poppy is no longer ill, and her bee sting healed very quickly – but now that we are back to our normal daily routine, she is fighting certain unavoidable tasks. Like, being a passenger in the car. She screams. She does not fuss, whine, peacefully protest – no. She screams until she is hyperventilating and choking. What this does to me is the most troubling. 45 minutes of her crying this way sends my blood pressure up, makes my head pound, and absolutely BREAKS MY HEART.
It is not as bad as the incessant wailing of her first 5 months, which I survived ONLY by the skin of my teeth and grace of God, but it is bad, bad, bad. It is even worse when I haven’t had a decent amount of sleep. I use “decent” loosely as I may consider three full (non-consecutive) hours as decent these days. It just gets into me, the crying. It weakens my defenses and the looming cloud of depression/exhaustion/fear/doubt settles upon my chest.
And then the car ride is over and she smiles and I feel human again. Just like that.
Upcoming surgery: I’ll just dive in.
I don’t want Poppy to spend the better part of a year, which at this point is more than her entire life, undergoing and healing from two surgeries that she does not need to survive. Casts for almost a month, bandages, skin grafts, PAIN, scabbing, scarring, crying, MORE sleepless nights. . .
I also cannot fathom Poppy spending the rest of her life hurting because she is different in ways that could have been “fixed.”
I have two appointments scheduled with two different surgeons. I am trying to find out if her insurance will cover flying to Texas to be treated by THE doctor with THE lead surgeons at a renowned craniofacial center. If she can be seen in Texas it will be a scramble to come up with the funds for travel and housing while there. I can’t say the idea of flying to an unfamiliar place for surgery is appealing – in fact, it is terrifying. But what option do I have if they are the best.
I have been spending a lot of time doing projects that soak up my time. Painting. Sanding. Moving furniture. I look forward to the day when I am strong enough to just lay on the floor and play all day. I can’t now. If I stop too long – I think. Thinking leads to sweating and anxiety. Anxiety leads to mental paralysis.
She wants to crawl. I won’t let her. I’ve missed so much already… while always right here. I am so tired of this fear.
I had a wonderful woman come and do postpartum henna and photography. She was phenomenal. So much talent in one person. Kieran and I both got one hand/wrist done. I believe it made him feel very special, and that, of course, makes me quite glad. In some cultures a woman who has postpartum henna is to relax and be waited on and treated gently and forbidden to do any housework or labor of any kind as long as the henna lasts.
I said “some cultures.”
Poppy ✨ 