"You get what you pay for, but I just had no intention of living this way." -Counting Crows

Why We're Here...

My husband David and I delivered a stillborn Baby Boy that we loved, and wanted. Our first and only son, Logan, had Down Syndrome. Our daughter's smile is a little light in the darkness. She turned one year old three days after our sweet Logan tip-toed away on January 24, 2009. After 2 1/2 years we found out we were having another baby, whom we affectionatly called Rudy. Just shy of 6 weeks we found out Rudy was Ectopic. Rudy was surgically removed on May 26, 2011 delivering another blow to our already broken hearts.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

Do you fear the death of your living children?  I feel stupid crazy weird odd admitting this, but I do.  It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.  And this week it's beating me down.  Next week my four year old, my only living child, my first child, my real fluke it would seem, is having her adenoids removed.  I know, I know.  Simple.  Common.  No big deal.  No big deal, I suppose, if you've never held your dead child.  I'm not even allowed to voice my anxiety over her looming surgery, because no one gets my fear!  And frankly I'm tired of the looks and I'm tired ot the arguments that are supposed to win me over.  You see, its not that I'm afraid of the surgery in and of itself.  I think the doctor is great, he's a pro, he'll do a great job...but...what if she doesn't wake up from anesthesia?  What if she gets MRSA or some other horrible disease while at the surgery center?  What if we find out the hard way she's allergic to some med (like her grandfather who had his heart stop during back surgery due to Demerol, though the doctors assure me this is not hereditary...but what if it is...)?  And then, to add to my anxiety, a fellow BLM sent me an article on this genetic mutation that causes children to over-metabolize Morphine causing an overdose and death.  You can freak yourself out if you want and read it here on Baby Center.  So, freak concerned mother that I am, I called the doctor and asked the nurse to ask him if he's heard of this and can she have something else...you know...just in case.  Shockingly, he called me back and left a message.  Yes, he's heard of it, and yes they can prescribe something else, call him back if I have any other concerns.  Nice of him.  He probably rolled his eyes and cursed Google.  I bet doctors hate moms who call all freaked out about something rare they read on the Internet.  I try to not be one of those mom's, but I couldn't help myself this time.

And then today...

Today Aubrey fell and smacked her mouth on the wood floor.  People, her head bounced!  And I tried to be all cool, shaking like a leaf and trying not to pass out (because though blood doesn't freak me out, HER BLOOD does!) while comforting her and cleaning up the blood, and praying that she still had teeth below all of that blood.  And I spent the entire day running her around.  First stop, pedi.  Does she needs stitches?  We don't stitch.  No kidding, but you'd know if she needs stitches, so clue me in.  Could use a stitch, but better to not traumatize her.  Ok great.  Let's get ice cream. Two hours later, its still bleeding.  Run into nurse, what do you think?  Needs a stitch or two, shouldn't keep bleeding.  Go home.  Call MIL.  She looks, nah, put wet bread on it.  WHAT?!  Seriously?  You should take her to dentist since she is complaining that her teeth hurt.  Ok.  Went to dentist.  DD has a mini melt down and won't allow Xray.  Weird, but ok.  Exam.  Looks ok.  Don't stitch.  Sigh.  Good.  But, she has several cavities!  WHAT?  Sigh.  I need a margarita.  Went for a walk instead.

You see, I know that I'm a freak.  I get that.  I don't live in denial about my irrational fear.  But today I felt like a bad mom.  And not because she hurt herself.  Hey, it was sad and I felt bad for her, but these things happen.  No, I felt like a bad parent because all day I was terrified that this was the beginning of some hideous end to her little life.  That this innocuous fall damaged her brain (which isn't that far out since the poor kid had a concussion at 3 from what seemed like a minor bump to the head and I wasn't even aware of it!).  That the gaping wound in her mouth would fester and introduce some hideous form of bacteria that I can't pronounce, much less spell.  That, if nothing else, her cute little baby teeth would die and/or fall out and it would somehow damage her self esteem and self image before she ever had a chance.  And all of these ridiculous thoughts make me feel stupid and weird.  I can't even be a normal mom to my living daughter anymore because I'm so consumed with terror over what feels inevitable to me.  Her death.  And all the while trying to be light and play it off to her so that she isn't in a panic and scarred for life because her mother is a FREAK!

Feeling like a freak is tiresome.

Being from a Christian family, I asked my brother to pray for my daughter that she doesn't have any complications next week.  My brother texted back "Don't worry sis.  God protects the little ones.".  I mean, what do you say to that?  Because what I wanted to say was something along the lines of "Sometimes, I guess."  What do you say to the moms whose little ones were not protected?  Logan wasn't.  Rudy wasn't.  So why should I believe that Aubrey is?  Because I want it so bad to be true?  What about all of the other babies?  What about all of the kidnapped children, the molested ones, the abused, the murdered, the neglected ones, the ones who get MRSA and die, the ones who get cancer and die, the ones born with holes in their hearts or water on their brains?  Were they protected?  God protects our little ones when it is in his plan and there isn't a lick we can do about it if its not!  What about the 4 children last year who they discovered had this weird genetic mutation?  Three of them died with in 24 hours after having their tonsals removed (another simple, common procedure).  God didn't protect them.  So who am I to believe that I am the special one?  That my begging and pleading to keep my daughter will make a difference this time, when it didn't the last two times I begged to keep my children?  In the end, and I know he was trying to comfort me and be helpful so I take it for what its worth and I don't hold it against him, but its that lack of understanding that makes me feel so alone in this world. 

Yes, I believe God is in control.  That's the part that scares me.


Michele said...

I have those fears too. I try to repeat to myself daily that, if their time to leave this world comes before mine, that I will cherish the time we've had and long for the day we are together again. But it terrifies me, moment by moment.

CJ said...

Oh, honey. My child was lost, but didn't die and I still feel this way. I cry every time J gets vaccinations because of the fear. I can't imagine her ever having to go under general anesthetic. I KNOW they're irrational fears, but they're still real. They still hurt. They still matter.

Sarah said...

About a month ago, my son began to complain about some minor joint pain. We live in an area with a high incidence of Lyme disease- which causes joint pain. I avoided bringing hom to the doctor for two weeks- because I was convinced that they were going to tell me that he had bone cancer,it was terminal, and there was nothing that they could do about it.

You aren't irrational, you're a mom who has been through the ringer- and as for your brother- my answer would have been something along the lines of, "yea, I know God protects little children- it's their mother's I'm worried about...." Maybegive him a little food for thought. <3

Sarah said...

oh, and he didn't have bone cancer. He has Lyme disease. It doesn't make me any less worried that he is still desperately sick, though. Be gentle with yourself.

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