Saturday, May 3, 2014

Why the Fuck Did You Say That For?

I'm taking this NICU thing one day at a time.  However my husband isn't and just wants to know about the future, despite that I've asked him to keep those thoughts to himself.  We literally just talked about it last night.  So he asked when Vincent might be home, and we're to start the discharge process tomorrow by watching videos and taking CPR classes.  I'm grateful for the CPR classes, I had taken some in high school, and still retained some knowledge concerning infant CPR.  A refresher will be quite useful and calming.

It just seems like whenever we think about the future something bad happens.  The universe just takes a dump on us.  It'd be really fucked up if the universe did it again in this situation.  I just want to do this one day at a time!  I really wish my husband hadn't said anything.  Or at least waited until I was out of the room.  

Then, to make matters worse, one of my friends said that he might need glasses, which doesn't actually bother me.  But also that I would have to keep him away from other sick people for a year.  How the hell can I do that with a toddler?  A toddler who almost always seems to catch colds from his cousins and my mom?  What?  Am I supposed to just keep Lycan inside and away from other kids for fear that he's going to get sick and kill his brother?  Put Vincent in a fucking bubble?

Why the hell did she bring that up?  Now I'm scared shitless!  Now I don't want to bring him home for fear of the future.  

I was fucking fine!  Taking things day-by-day, but now I'm thinking about the future and about health problems he might have or colds that might do serious damage to him!  Every time my son sneezes lately, I worry about Vincent catching something and having to stay longer.  Or me catching something from my son and not being able to see Vincent.  

What a fucked up thing to do, because I don't already have enough going on.  I'm trying to hold it together.  I have so much guilt.  Doesn't help that I just read on Baby Center that they think that one reason women have preterm births is due to having kids 18 months or less apart.  Thanks!  Now I feel even worse about not wearing that condom.  

I feel guilty about feeling guilty!  The fuck!  

I'm just trying to focus on Vin's daily achievements.  I'm not trying to think or fantasize about the future or about tomorrow even.  I don't want to be let down.  I'm just trying to take care of my oldest, giving him love and attention, making sure that I'm producing enough for my youngest, visiting him in the NICU.  I'm recording his progress daily while I'm there.  Holding him.  Participating in his daily life.  Giving him love, letting him know I'm there.  Be proud of his accomplishments.  Then tearing myself away when it's time to go home, while keeping it together.  Especially for my older son who doesn't understand why mommy's crying. 

I go home each night.  Have mommy-Lycan time before he goes to bed.  Eat.  Upload photos and updates to Facebook.  Pump.  Go to bed.  Then get up and start a new day.  Each day I look forward to seeing my baby.  But each time I walk inside that hospital, I'm scared of what I might see when I go into his room.  Regression or progression?  Although I know that if there's a problem, the doctor will call.  

Even then, when the phone rings, I wonder.  I worry.  Is it the hospital?  Has something happened?  I'm just trying to hold it together.  To not think about the future.

I don't want to think about possible problems he might have, or essentially putting him in a bubble.  I just want to take his daily picture, write down his daily accomplishments, and focus on how well he's doing.  On how strong he is.  And how he looks like his brother more each day.  I don't want to worry!  I don't want to fear!  I don't want to stress!  Just let me fucking do this my way!  Keep your fucking thoughts to yourself!  I'm so fucking fragile right now.  I don't want warnings or bad news.  I just want updates on how he is.  To hold him, look into those blue eyes, and see this healthy, handsome baby who's most content when mommy's holding him.  I want the moment.  This moment:


I look at this and I see potential.  A healthy child not plagued by illness due to his moms body's inability to  keep him inside for a couple more weeks.  That guilt just goes back to the miscarriage and my body's inability to keep that embryo alive.  

I'm not strong enough for worry or guilt or fears.  I'm not.  I'm not strong enough to be faced with my little boy having health problems due to being preterm. Because of me.  I don't want to think about the maybes, the uncertainties, the possibilities.

I'm just going to look at this picture and be in that moment.  Take this day by day.  Not let others knowings and wishes and fears get to me.  Just me, Vincent, and his care givers.

As of today, Vin is a week old.  Good job, little man.  You've come a long way already.

No comments:

Post a Comment