The aftermath

Truth be told, i spend a lot of my time these days in a blurry haze.

There are things that i can control, and lots and lots of things that i can’t – and it would appear that control is something that is very important to me.

I may not have discovered this were it not for Ozzie.

When i get the chance to interact with adults, i honestly can’t remember how to have rational thought based conversations that don’t end in: “Because i’m your mom and i’m the boss”

Do people still have those?


The doctor is IN

I know that eventually this will all be just a memory… Just tonight while getting ready to eat supper i looked over at Ceddy who was sitting on the kitchen counter talking to Brad about his trip to the Backpack store where he got his NEW!! BACKPACK!! and i thought: “I can’t believe that he used to be so tiny once”

Every day is kinda like the day before, and it doesn’t take much before you realize that we’re almost half way through the year… sorry, someone had to say it. With the outing of our baby with Moebius – it’s been sort of a bleary fog of answering questions and kind emails of encouragement… which all have the same theme… “If anyone can handle something like this, it’s you guys” What does that even mean? it’s confusing to us, because there really isn’t any other option. We deal and we cope because we MUST deal and we MUST cope. It’s as though it’s implied that if we weren’t us we wouldn’t be doing everything we could to help our baby.

it’s just a weird thing to say

i'd like to know where you got your medical license...

So, i pretty much just take each day as it comes because that’s all i can do.  I’m not brave, or strong, or capable… I’m not “hangin’ in there”…i’m numb.  And the numbness makes it bearable.And the only thing that gets me through the hard days is the knowledge that time keeps marching on, whether i want it to or not…i have to remind myself that the shitty times won’t last forever, but neither will the adorable, cute, or happy times.  The only thing i can do is live in the moment….Easier said than done.  But i’m trying.


November Fourth

Day 19 in NICU, still no end in sight.

I kinda wanna talk about it, i kinda wanna scream from the rooftops; WHY ME?? i kinda wanna crawl into the fetal position and hide in my basement until Ozzie comes home…

I want to tell you everything, and i want to tell you nothing.

I want to cry, and I want to stop crying.  Every day, i’m so sick of fucking crying!

Brad and i are keeping a lot of things to ourselves right now, because there are a lot of uncertainties – and mostly i don’t feel like fielding the same questions every time i see or talk to someone.

My mother in law came by the other day because Cedric was sick and couldn’t go to daycare, so when she arrived, she looked around the house and said: “What’s bothering you the most?” and i said: “That Ozzie’s not at home.”

My house, it’s a disaster.
My body is tired.  My heart hurts.  I feel, everyday, like a part of me is missing, because a part of me is in a little plastic box in NICU.

I want a break.
But i can’t take a break.  I can’t justify not going to the hospital when i’m perfectly able to.  But also, not seeing Ozzie for even one day would be more painful than i can bear.  So, every day i drive 20 minutes across town, battle all the construction in the hospital parking lot, walk up the stairs to the 3rd floor because i can’t be bothered to wait for the SLOWEST ELEVATORS OF ALL FRIKKIN TIME!, and then i sit.  I sit and i hold Ozzie for as long as i can stand it before i have to either pump or leave.

And he’s so little that there’s really not a comfortable way of holding him for that long… so my back aches from the chair, my butt hurts from sitting so still for so long, my shoulders hurt from holding him close, my neck hurts from straining to look at him while i’m holding him… my breasts and nipples hurt from constant pumping – and or waiting too long to pump because i just can’t put him down and think “Just ten more minutes….just ten more minutes” until i’m about ready to burst.

Then i come home and give all my attention to Cedric who is super clingy right now because he’s been sick…again…. And i’m doing everything i can to not get sick myself because staying home is not an option for me…

Brad is working, being superdad, and trying to put the house back together now that we finally have our carpet in our rumpus room… and on top of everything our car is probably going to be written off because Brad had a bit of an accident last week when we had all that freezing rain… because we don’t already have enough on our plate.

We made the decision to try to find our cats Kozmo and Cinda new homes, and neither of us wants to actually think about putting them up for adoption – but Kozmo is not adjusting to life with children – he took a few unprovoked swats at Cedric in the past little while, and we’re starting to wonder if Cedric might be a bit healthier without the cats around.  Now with TWO preemies to think about, it’s time to part ways with our feline babies.  SAD! CRY!

November, so far, has been full of mostly suck.  I would like some goodness please, universe, and i would like my baby home.

November First

I have a confession to make: I am trying very hard to handle everything, but i don’t think i’m doing very well.  Ozzie is STILL in NICU.   I know that every baby is different, and i really shouldn’t be comparing Cedric’s time in NICU to Ozzie’s, but it’s hard not too.

Cedric seemed to have it all together, he was just small.  He was out of NICU after 18 days, and here we are with Ozzie – on day 16 with no end in sight.

I know that the hospital is the best place for him, but my heart hurts every time i leave him there… I’m usually there for five to six hours, but it seems like it’s not nearly enough!  like i could be there more, even though i can’t do much but hold him, or stroke his head.

This go around – it just seems like there are so many more things to deal with… And on top of a teeny tiny baby we have a very confused two year old – who kinda gets that his little brother is here, but it’s tough because he can’t go in to see him.  He’s seen pictures, but that’s about it.  It’s tough.  All he really gets is that he’s being dropped off at grandma and grandpa’s more than normal, and that his mama time has been seriously depleted.  And that breaks my heart – i know that i have TWO little boys to take care of, and its hard not to feel like i’m letting one or the other down.

Mostly, right now – i am sick of talking about it.  I feel like everyone i talk to expects me to break into tears, and they all ask the same thing, i’ve almost got it down to a science of not actually talking about it:

“how’s Ozzie doing?” and i always say the same thing: “Oh, y’know… sleeping, growing”

“How are YOU doing?” “Oh, y’know, as good as can be expected”

“How are you guys holding up?”  “Pretty well.”

it’s not that i don’t appreciate all the thoughts and concern, i really do.  But repeating the same story over and over again, with someone new every day, it’s just too hard.