Thursday, February 3, 2011

Mind Garbage

*The title of this one tells it all. This is just the nasty stuff that's been rolling around in my head the last few days when it's late at night and Ruby is asleep. I apologize in advance.

This blog has become invaluable to me, mainly in its purpose of allowing me to truly express how I feel about mothering an extraordinary and yet medically complicated child. I belong to several groups as a mother. I don't mean the card-carrying kind of groups. I mean that I place myself into categories as a mother. I am a mother of a child with a chromosomal abnormality, a 22q mom. I am a "heart mom." I am also a baby-wearing, co-sleeping, natural child-birth kind of mom. The other relationships with mothers that Ruby and I associate with have mostly grown out of these three categories. And I am thankful for the internet and the ability to connect with some of these other families that it has provided. And yet sometimes, as we all do, I feel so alone in my role as a mother to Ruby. While it is true that other parents share similar concerns for their children as I do in raising Ruby, sometimes I just feel so weighed down and alone in it all.

From the internet we only see snipets of what other people's lives are truly like. Some people only share the best, and others share the worst. That leads me to make comparisons that aren't truly accurate or fair. This also leaves me feeling alone and inadequate. We are all so horribly trapped in our own minds, aren't we? No one can feel exactly what we feel and even when we try to bridge the gap between us we usually fall short. Words are such a limited way to communicate. Empathy is so difficult. The only person I've ever seen succeed in being truly empathetic is probably my mother. That woman cares so much...about everyone...it amazes me. But now I'm getting off topic...

This blog is a way for me to bridge that gap. To let people into what I'm thinking and feeling, mostly for selfish reasons but also because I want people to know what I feel in the hopes that they will feel less alone. Perhaps they can relate to some small part of my experiences. I know that's why I read other parents' blogs. They give me hope and make me feel less isolated. Sometimes they do the opposite, because well...heart defects are unforgiving. They kill. And reading other children's stories sometimes remind me of that. It scares me so much. Sometimes the fear is paralyzing, as I'm sure I've mentioned before.

Ruby has been coughing a lot at night and during her naps. That scares me. Would a "normal" parent say it's a cold and move on? Maybe not. Maybe they would worry about it like I do. But I know Ruby's lungs aren't great. They never will be. Her lung profusion isn't the same as the rest of the population and she will always be more fragile because of it. So every cough frightens me. Especially when it does not seem to be connected with an obvious virus. I plan on calling her ped tomorrow if the coughing persists. And it's probably nothing but we'll see.

So I'm going to get right to it: I don't want my child to die. I don't want her to die before me, but I know that is most likely. I want her to make friends, and date, and get into trouble, and do all of those things. What will her life be like as she grows? Will she be significantly delayed. Will she be intelligent enough to know she is different and see how that difference separates her from her peers. Will she even get a chance to think about that? Will she die after her next surgery? Or the next one? I wish I knew. I know that probably sounds crazy, but if I knew she was going to die before she reached adolescence at least I wouldn't have to worry about those awful years. I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not to have another child. Dan and I talk about it with each other. And we both know we wouldn't want another child if we lost Ruby. I just don't think I could do it--to raise another child and have that child not know their sibling. I think I'm too selfish and that I wouldn't be able to adequately raise another child with Ruby gone. I would be to lost and I think that I wouldn't be a very good person, let alone a good parent. And yet, if Ruby lives and thrives as she is now, I want her to experience the joy of a sibling. And I would love to have a house filled with children, just not without her.

I know how well she is doing at the moment, but I hear of so many deaths. And I know that my child is not exempt from the evils of her CHD. Some people seem to have the attitude that things happen for a reason or God has a plan, but I don't think that. I believe in God but I don't think He works like that. I just don't. And maybe that would give me solace and I'm glad it helps others, but to me...well my brain just doesn't allow that kind of thinking. I really hope that doesn't offend anyone because that is not my intent...just trying to bridge that gap.

Goodness, so many things have been turning around in my mind lately that this is quite a jumble. There is more too. I've been angry. Angry that Ruby is different. Angry that she has to fight so hard for every new skill. Every milestone. Angry at other people for not understanding. Angry at other people for not trying to understand. All irrational feelings, because I know that the people around me love and care and do try to understand. But sometimes I still feel it. I am angry that for the first time I felt a pang of jealousy when my sister told me her son ate sweet potatoes for the first time and loved it. Not angry at him or her but with myself for feeling that way. I am foremost happy for her and him because I love him like he's mine, but I just wish Ruby could eat. If I did have another child and they were eating before Ruby I know would feel the same jealousy...how weird is that? I wish it wasn't so hard. That every. single. meal. wasn't so damn hard. It's so effortless for some and I know that my sister doesn't take it for granted because she feels Ruby's struggles along with me, and so when her son eats she knows exactly why she should be so happy and proud of him. And I feel that way too. Unfortunately there is that nasty pain in my chest that hits me back and reminds me that Ruby is different. Different. Different.

And I just hate it. So much that I want to scream. And most of the time I don't feel like that but right now I do. It probably seems like a feel that way all of the time from the posts on this blog, but the truth is the only times I feel that way are when I write a post like this. Because sometimes it builds up to a point and erupts on here. Most likely this one is due to too much time sitting at home during these snow days with too much time to think. Don't get me wrong I've loved these lazy days, but I think tomorrow an adventure out of the house is in order. Because lately, I've been thinking far too much. Thinking about all of the times I have been out in public and given Ruby a bolus feed. People stare or they avoid. I don't know what I expect of other people. Perhaps just a smile and nod as you would to any mother feeding her cute toddler. I don't know. It's not their fault...it's just irritating. I often push back feeds to avoid the issue when at others' houses. I don't know why, because these people are my friends and they would understand, but it's sometimes just easier to avoid the look on people's faces when I pull out the tubes. A sense of guilt is washing over me for feeling that way. I should never be embarrassed. Ruby has gone through too much for me to ever feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. And if I feel that way now, what kind of self-value will that give her? Sometimes I feel as if all I do is fail her...even though I know that's not really true. After all, I'm human and susceptible to all of the same unwanted emotions that we all get from time to time.

OK, that's enough negativity for now. Next post will be a happy one I promise ;) Just needed to vent. And so there it is. Sorry for being such a downer but if I get all of this out on here, then I seem to be able to function as a happier and more stable person in the real world. Thank you internet people for listening...or reading...or whatever :P

4 comments:

  1. It's okay. My mom gets pissed at people that complain about their one child that has asthma or their child that has ADHD or whatever. She was ready to kill everyone when she had to tote my sister around in her back brace and eye patch and shaved head (even though she wore hats). Have an internet hug girlfriend <(* *<)

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  2. I swear you stole everything out of my head.

    Especially about the eating part. Ugggh. I swear....

    I would like to share this with you, probably because all of my friends are "normal". And all of my nurse friends don't get it because they would say it could happen to anyone. I hope you don't mind...

    Recently, a nurse that works in Olivia's peds office lost her 2 year old to influenza. And because the peds office is in the hospital in which I work, word got around.

    When I heard about her loss, I was knocked down, and I have yet to catch my breath. Her child was "normal" and is gone before her. And all I can think about is how crappy Olivia's lungs are, how floppy her airway is, how easily she chokes on simple kid friendly foods, and how I would need to be sedated just to keep me from joining her if she were to die. And if the flu took this healthy boy, dear God, what would it do to the most precious thing that walks the earth- my Olivia.

    I hate that I have to worry about it, that I have to add all of her health issues into the equation....

    (((HUGS)))

    You are not alone. Even in the dark when the worries creep in.

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  3. Kerry, your "negative" post hits the heart of every mom who was blessed with a "different" child. We know and hear your heart. We have some of the same fears, concerns and hurts that you have. We applaud you in your ability to write them down and not keep them in your head. We don't take your posts as negative or feeling sorry for yourself. It is the life we live with our children and the most caring people will never understand what we feel. Honestly, do parents of "normal" children sleep with a pulse ox and stethescope in the bed with them? Do they worry that a fever/cold will turn into endocarditis? Do they worry that their child will not have friends as they grow because they are "different"? I think not. When a parent of a "normal" child looses that child it is most llkely not something that they have worried about, sat up at night thinking about or lived months on end at a hospital. It is our lives, it is where we live on a daily basis.I do believe that we all have a number of days on this earth and that God knows that number. It doesn't make me feel any better knowing that Madison's may not be as long as I would want it to be.
    Thank you for sharing your heart and helping so many of us know that we are really not alone in this journey we are on.
    Have a blessed day with that beautiful baby of yours!
    Pam
    www.caringbridge.org/visit/madison

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  4. Kerry, you just expressed so many of the thoughts and feelings I have had, but have had no one to express them to. Especially the VCFS aspect and the worries and fears that come with the HUGE unknowns. So many close to us have a hard time grasping the whole "CHD" part, they don't even TRY to understand the genetic disorder that brought along the heart issues.

    You are such an incredible mommy, who is doing an amazing job raising Miss Ruby. I know she will grow up to do great things, thanks in part to the supportive parents she has. :)

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