I am not one to always be the relaxed, go with the flow kind of person. My type A personality with diagnosed OCD hinders my ability to see clearly day to day because I am always thinking ahead, organizing, and trying to be Miss Prepared. It has been a struggle, but I have really slowed down and tried to spend the most quality time with PA as possible just one day at a time. I was pretty proud of my self until this past week. All the emotions, fears, and questions that I have kept hidden so deep in my heart came out with full force. There hasn't been a day with dry eyes, a day were I do not kiss her little ridge thinking it will magically go away, a day where Andrew hasn't had to give me a pep talk to help me sleep, or a day that I BEG God to keep her safe on the 5th.
Everyone has their own way of praying. I know that there is not a "wrong" way to pray, but my whole life I felt as though my personal prayers to God have been a little lame. I had a routine (shocking that even my prayers are on a schedule), every night I thank him for the day, ask for forgiveness for my wrong doings, bless my family and dear friends, help me be a better person, and then end with special intentions. My prayers have been much more detailed, frequent, and less routine since that awful Thursday in December. I will count that as a positive from this experience.
When I was pregnant, I got the mother load of parenting advice. Older family members, friends with kids, friends without kids, strangers at Bed Bath and Beyond, men, co-workers, neighbors, waitresses, and even my 15 year old male students had advice to give to a new mom. Some were helpful, others should probably never be repeated as "advice" again. It is human nature to want to help someone and give them any tips that you may make their experience pleasant. Everyone knows labor is painful. That is the understatement of the year. The pain you feel when having a baby is so mysterious to me. Immediately after having Presley that pain disappears. The agonizing two hours I went through was all just a faint feeling. I remember it hurting (insanely bad) but I cannot remember that actual pain. My point is, being a parent hurts. It starts at birth. The good thing, in my case, is that I do not remember that pain. Being a parent really hurts when your child hurts. The feeling that my heart is being ripped out because of what Presley is about to go through is the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. Not one person's advice can prepare you for that. Nobody. I am not prepared to see my baby girl bruised, swollen, eyes shut, and a gash in her skull. I do not think my heart will be able to handle it.
We go to ACH on Monday to have her blood work done. We will also get to meet Dr. Cai her neurosurgeon. On Tuesday, we are to be there at 6:30, they will take her at 8:30, and surgery will begin around 9:30. We hope to hear word from the team by 11:30 or noon. I (or my sister) will keep the blog updated on her recovery in PICU.
We have some very loving people in our lives. Andrew, Presley, and I are so blessed with a fantastic group of friends and family who have really been the ones to hold us up through this whole time. From family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, league members, Knights, and new friends we have met with similar experiences have truly been the reason we are making it. My work family has been amazing. I cannot begin to explain how lucky PA and I are to be apart of such a wonderful facility that has amazing and caring staff. One of my many breakdowns was when Presley's teacher sent home a little string of baby handprints from her classmates with get well wishes on it. That will definitely be hung with care in her hospital room. We are amazed at the prayers and support we have been given. Words will never be adequate for how grateful we are.
I have multiple contacts with my best friend from high school daily. Usually the texts we send are sarcastic, funny, or good gossip. The phone conversations are usually complaining about the husbands, talking about the kids, and trying our best to squeeze in plans to see each other although we are 150 miles apart. Our emails consist of links to funny blog exerts or cute kid clothes. The email I received on Friday was on a more serious note but it also put things in a timely perspective, one that I had not looked at yet.
4 days until Presley gets better
4 days until I get to hug you
6 days until you guys are home
8 months until you get to have tea with the Duchess
9 months until Presley begins her flower girl duties
11 months until Christmas
Now we can say 2 days........
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