So as previously mentioned, my poor baybee has been injured. I have of course no frame of reference, as my child did not require stitches before I became a big ball of anxiety after losing Little T, but I'm fairly certain I'm not handling this as well as I would have under normal circumstances. I have improved since the first 3 days, where my heart palpitations actually came back, and it's been years for those suckers, so I guess that's something to be grateful for. I actually thought I was having a panic attack on Friday, but looking back I think it was a blood sugar issue instead, because I deviated from the lunch I normally have and felt much better after I ate dinner. Interesting that's the first place my mind jumped though.
This happened 5 days ago and I'm still at like def con 2. 3 at the very least. I thought that my stress was continuing because of my worries of infection due to where she was hurt, and also that I had to take her to the Awful Hospital that attempted to kill my husband twice because the thought of driving my bleeding child 30 more very twisty miles was too much when this hospital was under a mile away from where it occurred. I inspect her chin every night thoroughly to be sure it's not red or swollen, or leaking any puss, and it never is. But my stress continues to remain pretty constant. I have exercised every night, and it helps for a couple hours, but the straws keep stacking, things that shouldn't be stressful, that I have no problem handling normally just weigh on me.
My second thought was maybe I'm worried about scarring? That I'll feel relief and all the anxiety will woosh right out of me when she gets her stitches out and I see it's not that bad at all. Everything will be fine, threat of infection is over etc. But HELLO?! Did we not read my post about my scars? We have them, all of us. They do not need to be the cause of 5 day long panic. Especially when it's a scar that needed 3 effin stitches. I mean come on.
After thinking on it for awhile I've come to the conclusion that this is just how I deal with things right now. What should normally take a few hours, or a day to process and pass through, is going to take me much longer.
I'm very much changed with my losses. Besides the shitballs it's hard to get out of bed every morning problem, I'm left with the a very long lasting awareness of every one's MORTALITY. We can all die. At any moment. I don't obsess about it. I'm able to leave the house, do things. But when J and I go somewhere together without G it is very much in the forefront of my mind; what if something happens? Who will tell G her Princess G stories every night? No one else is aware they exist besides J and I. They don't know it's just a recap of her day, with everyone renamed royally. No one else knows about Princess G, Prince Daddy, Fair Maiden Mommy, Knight Uncle M, Queen Granny and King Papa. She LOVES these stories, what would happen to her before bed routine? Or shit, her ENTIRE routine? It's just me and her for the most part.
It would change. Very simply. And she would live and adapt and be happy again someday. But that is not particularly comforting.
I hate that this is how I think. That these things are lurking in the back of my mind and I can't just have a relaxing date with my husband. I hate that 5 days after my kid got hurt every little wrong thing almost brings me to the point of tears. That I have to take deep breaths on the regular, and that stuff I normally take in stride affect me so much easier.
Just when you think you've been making real progress your kid bounces her face off a decorative toilet brush bucket. *sigh*
I will keep working. I will dance I will breathe I will exercise. I will snuggle I will read stories I will go places with my kid. I will smooch my husband and roll my eyes at his awful jokes. I will get better and better every day. I will not put my kid in a large plastic bubble.
I might go price some on amazon though. Just in case.
*My quote: it's actually one of those vintage picture looking thing that my husband texted to me from work one day. It's nice he's so supportive of my extra curricular activities. I do love him.
I could have written this. I live in a state of constant fear that something bad will happen to my Amelia. We came so close to losing her after she was born (she had a massive stroke), and then we went on to lose baby after baby after baby. It doesn't help that I work in an intensive care unit, and face people's mortality every single day. I have this crazy idea that the grim reaper is just chasing my little family down, and one of these days, he's going to catch one of us. But one cannot dwell on these things- we must go on being mothers, wives, employees, friends, etc, all the while hoping that today isn't the day that our worlds get turned upside down. It's tough for an anxious person like me (and you, by the sound of it!).
ReplyDeleteAnyway... I'm no help here, but wanted you to know that you're not alone. Not at all!
Thank you, your words do help!
DeleteI think it might be time to look around and find a therapist you click with so you can find ways to cope that bring you off the walls a little more quickly. I know you'll get there on your own, but you have enough to struggle with, it would be nice if every day stuff would be a little easier.
ReplyDeleteI was looking around and it's like the odds are stacked against me, there's no one listed who's in my network so who knows how much that would cost, not to mention gas and I'd need at least 2, 2.5 hours away from G. How do people with kids go to therapy?! And plus work?!! Maybe I'm a poor time manager. Plus I just went to the dentist for the first time in 6 years, who sat looking at my x rays and cackling maliciously while rubbing his hands together. So yeah. I'm choosing to get fillings over my mental health. *shrug* If only I could email someone during nap time or something.
DeleteYou're right though, I'm taking the hard road I'm sure. My priorities are out of whack. I don't want to give up kickboxing. :))
Your mind turns too many worry beads over & over, filled with knowing & overknowing, & conjuring. I'm not blamiing you for that, but for the betterment of everything, some therapy might help, rather than letting it stretch out interminably. You are smart, & kind, & loving, but not so much smart & kind, & loving to yourself, I think. ~Mary
ReplyDeleteI'm sure it would help. It's something I need to consider, maybe a little more seriously than I am. Thank you.
DeleteYeah, therapy would be nice, but it sounds like the therapist who you did see what sort of a quack. I hope you do find some help, some solace, and eventual relief from your anxiety-shadow. Or whatever serves you. There's so much gray in life, yeah?
ReplyDeleteI wish for you happiness and the causes of happiness. I wish you to be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
Amen.
We were just on way different wave lengths. She was constantly talking me down from a ledge I didn't feel like I was on. I was there to talk about the bad shit, and she was constantly talking about the good shit. Which I get in theory, if I had lost sight of that. But I'm a grateful motherfucker. I show and feel it all the time. *shrug*
DeleteThank you very very much.
Regarding G's chin wound, the fact that she also mangled her tongue causes me to wonder if the laceratio occurred on the bottom of her chin. If so, you don't have to worry about it. It will hardly ever be visible. On both sides of my family, at least one kid in each sub-unit had a wound requiring stitches on the underside of his or her chin. Both my brother and I have them. I didn't get mine until I was 15, yet even when I lift my head up so someone can look at it, it's barely visible. What are your and your husband's heights? The taller she ends up being, the more it matter. If she ends up being 5'4" or shorter, no adult will ever be able to see it.
ReplyDeleteEven if it's on the facial portion of the chin, at her age she should heal well, although of course you want to minimize sun exposure while it's healing, but you know that. Once it's healed a bit, you might try one of those products such as Mederma. I used it on all of my railroad tracks on my legs and midsection, and it seemed to help.
My dad will be really mad if he reads either the previous paragraph or this one, because he gets really upset with me for practicing medicine without a license on the Internet or anywhere else, but . . . you're right to be concerned about where the injury took place. I'm sure the practitioner cleaned the cut really well once the skin was anesthetized, but when you consider what great breeding grounds hospitals are for pseudomonas and MRSA, among other things, how much consolation can that be? You might want either a stronger than over-the-counter topical ointment, or, if you're really lucky and G. has only rarely been on oral antibiotics, you could consider asking her doctor for a short course of oral antibiotics (Ciproflaxin, Ampicillin -- whatever the doctor thinks is best.) This is probably overkill, and I'd only request it if G. has had little exposure to antibiotics.
Regarding your handling of the whole mess, this probably doesn't help much, but it sounds like your reaction is perfectly normal considering all you've been through. Panic attacks are a bitch, palpitations are bastards, and I hope they stop soon, but I'm not sure how any sane mother who has endured all that you've endured can react much differently. Perhaps a just a very small amount of booze might be helpful when you know you don't have to drive for a little while.