Monday, October 20, 2008

One year ago.....


We said goodbye to our Cardinal Glennon Home. Alex was in the NICU for 6 weeks, and then we came home.
I was so glad to say goodbye to the monitors, the o2 sats, the heart rate number, the breaths per minute number, the alarms, the vital checks on my sleeping baby, the tests, the surgeries, the picc lines, the TPN, the iv, the blood gas pricks, the x-rays, the lack of privacy, the public shower, the o2, the echos, the shift change, the lonely nights.
When I got home though, my life was gone.
Everything was so familiar, but it wasn't mine anymore.
Who I was when I was pregnant had vanished, the life I hoped to live wasn't to be, and this new life had been forced onto me.
Everything, everyone that was familiar was just a reminder of what I had lost.
The yellow paint on the walls that I had painted just a year before reminded me of what I lost, the pictures on the wall that I had hung reminded me.
Everyone just kept on living, I was grieving, dying inside, and they just kept on living. Driving by my house on their way to what was normal to them 2 months before, and I was stuck in this new reality.
I was sticking an NG tube into my child's nose, down his throat, and into his stomach so he could get more than 10cc's from his bottle.
This was my life?
What did that doctor say a few weeks ago? A syndrome? Developmental delay?
Excuse me, this cant be right.
Still everyone kept on living, driving, shopping, going to church, having parties.
Coming home is when reality hit, somehow in the medical potpourri of the hospital, tubes, syndromes, it all fit.
Coming home was looking in the mirror at what was really happening, and I hated it. I didn't want it, I was so angry. I was so suddenly isolated and couldn't control it.

A year has passed, I'm still here, in the same house with the same walls, and paint. People still driving by on their way to their normal. Im out there too, living my normal life. I'm ok, in fact I'm doing FANTASTIC, I'm in love with my baby boy, what a gift he is, what a pure joy he is. Developmental delay? We all have it to some degree! Alex is the greatest teacher I have ever had, I love where I am at..... syndromes, tubes, and all.


8 comments:

Kelly said...

It has been such a journey to get to the place that we now sit. I am glad we are stting beside each other!
I do feel the same way...things are so much easier emotionally.
Kelly

The VW's said...

I hear you and I can totally relate! I'm so happy that your 'New Kind of Normal' brings you such happiness now! Alex IS such a blessing!

I just posted on our site about Gavin coming home from the hospital on this day one year ago as well, and that he's stayed out of the hospital for that long! Before this he had been in and out of the hospital continually! I'm feeling very blessed and thankful today as well! Love you!

Kristi said...

Jessica, You made me cry again..Must be my hormones.. I am so glad to read this entry... Just wish I could give you a big hug..

nola said...

What a joy to be where you are today! It has been a year of ups and downs and growth for you. It is so amazing what a great change for good these little guys do in our lives. God has blessed you beyond words really. He has brought you to a new level of living and new level of normal. I believe it is a much higher level than before. May you continue to grow stronger in His grace and mercy.

Kyle & Tarah Peacock said...

I agree with Kristi, that was so beautifully said it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for that, I really needed to hear something like that.

hennhouse said...

beautifully written
brutally honest
wonderfully true

lots of us can relate
thanks for sharing

Pinkalicious said...

Congratulations, Jessica, on being in a good spot. Acceptance is the last step of grieving, so yay for you!

Thank you for sharing your journey with Alex. We are all learning and growing so much from you.

Sending hugs, prayers, and ju-ju,
Sara

Patyrish said...

You really captured it here. So true, I felt all those same things with Makily. It's a horrible shock when they are diagnosed but when you bring them home, it's a new shock. LIfe goes on around you and you feel like you were thrown into a tornado, but you'll never be thrown back out.

Thank you for being so honest about that feeling, it takes courage to admit that.