My leg is a source of a lot of grief in my life. Five months ago, my knee suffered a traumatic injury, I was given a sixty percent chance of not needing surgery so we would try therapy first. I was on crutches, and mostly stuck in bed for two and a half months before my insurance finally decided to OK my physical therapy.
Physical therapy has been productive. I gained a functional range of motion (97%), and have been working on strengthening. I had significant atrophy, and have slowly been growing muscle again, so when my leg muscles HURT, part of me is happy because it means I have muscle at all!
However, my leg has put me in a cage for five months. I am a free bird, caged. People have to do things for me, which I dont like. I cant do what I want or like to do. I feel as if I am a failure as a mom, especially to my youngest, because I simply cant do a lot of the things I need to do for him.
I am depressed. I have been in a very deep depression all summer long that has been getting worse.
Now, my anxiety is increasing daily in regard to the impending winter.
Ice.
I am afraid of it.
Ice and snow pose a great risk for me. My goal has been to be off of these crutches before the snow comes. It is getting colder all the time. I am worried about it.
If I fall? I expect to be back to the beginning, or worse. If I fall, I expect I will need the surgery. If I fall, I worry that I may never be able to walk again.
Even if I do manage to get off the crutches before the ice comes, and am walking on my own, I imagine I will still be somewhat unstable, and my balance will be precarious.
The cold weather is coming towards me vengefully, with doom in its cackling eyes.
I just want to be able to function in my daily life.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Growth
Every now and then, I find myself perusing my folders containing the thousands of digital images over the past four years. There are many that I took to express my artistic side. Most of them are of my beloved children.
There is a specific set of pictures of my youngest that makes me cry (come on, lets face it, all pictures of my littlest invoke this reaction. However, typically, it is in an "aww, so sentimental" frame of mind).
They are a series of sweet shots of my husband holding him upright relieving him of the seeming pain in his abdomen he would have most evenings (possibly colic, but I never really thought that is what it was, seemed like something else). The first is my sweet babe redfaced and crying, with big crocodile tears streaming down his face. The next he looks calmer and appearing somewhat zapped out. The final picture, is my baby smiling and giggling and looking happily perky again!
The reason this series of shots makes me cry, is not because of what is happening. It is because he looks downright skeletal and emaciated. He had lost most of his hair off the top of his head. My baby looks rough in these pictures. Looking at these pictures you wouldnt know that he was a champion nurser, from an experienced nursing mama with no breastfeeding and milk producing issues.
My baby was born with a common defect. He had grade 3 Vesicoureteral Reflux. He was given a fifty percent chance of either "growing out of it" or requiring surgery. Thankfully, he has since grown out of it, and his kidneys appear fine.
However, I still remember how scared I was that he would need surgery. I remember how horrible I felt that my innocent newborn was born with a E coli bladder infection, and blaming myself (how the hell does a baby in utero get infected with E coli??!?). I remember taking my ten day old infant to be admitted to the hospital for IV antibiotics for 2 days, and the horrendous two hour ordeal of the nurses sticking my baby over and over again trying desperately to put in an IV, and eventually resorting to giving him a shot (which wasnt ideal because it was daily for a few weeks and because it wasnt as fast acting as an IV). I remember passersby commenting on how adorable my newborn was... at 3 months old.
He wasnt gaining weight. He had infection after infection with rare bacteria. He was on prophylactic antibiotics for the first year of his life. He was afraid of doctors before he could crawl. He knew, as an infant, what would happen when needles were brought into the room, or our poor (and wonderfully sweet and caring) medical assistant came into the room.
Many parents deal with such horrendous disabilities and illnesses, and I still feel guilt for being so incredibly strung out about my baby's medical drama.
So, when I see those pictures I cry. I cry because of the ordeal he went through. I cry because I am so incredibly grateful that he did not need surgery. I cry from the memories. I cry.
There is a specific set of pictures of my youngest that makes me cry (come on, lets face it, all pictures of my littlest invoke this reaction. However, typically, it is in an "aww, so sentimental" frame of mind).
They are a series of sweet shots of my husband holding him upright relieving him of the seeming pain in his abdomen he would have most evenings (possibly colic, but I never really thought that is what it was, seemed like something else). The first is my sweet babe redfaced and crying, with big crocodile tears streaming down his face. The next he looks calmer and appearing somewhat zapped out. The final picture, is my baby smiling and giggling and looking happily perky again!
The reason this series of shots makes me cry, is not because of what is happening. It is because he looks downright skeletal and emaciated. He had lost most of his hair off the top of his head. My baby looks rough in these pictures. Looking at these pictures you wouldnt know that he was a champion nurser, from an experienced nursing mama with no breastfeeding and milk producing issues.
My baby was born with a common defect. He had grade 3 Vesicoureteral Reflux. He was given a fifty percent chance of either "growing out of it" or requiring surgery. Thankfully, he has since grown out of it, and his kidneys appear fine.
However, I still remember how scared I was that he would need surgery. I remember how horrible I felt that my innocent newborn was born with a E coli bladder infection, and blaming myself (how the hell does a baby in utero get infected with E coli??!?). I remember taking my ten day old infant to be admitted to the hospital for IV antibiotics for 2 days, and the horrendous two hour ordeal of the nurses sticking my baby over and over again trying desperately to put in an IV, and eventually resorting to giving him a shot (which wasnt ideal because it was daily for a few weeks and because it wasnt as fast acting as an IV). I remember passersby commenting on how adorable my newborn was... at 3 months old.
He wasnt gaining weight. He had infection after infection with rare bacteria. He was on prophylactic antibiotics for the first year of his life. He was afraid of doctors before he could crawl. He knew, as an infant, what would happen when needles were brought into the room, or our poor (and wonderfully sweet and caring) medical assistant came into the room.
Many parents deal with such horrendous disabilities and illnesses, and I still feel guilt for being so incredibly strung out about my baby's medical drama.
So, when I see those pictures I cry. I cry because of the ordeal he went through. I cry because I am so incredibly grateful that he did not need surgery. I cry from the memories. I cry.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Witching Hour, Bringer of Delusions
So, I am delusional.
This is a simple fact.
Why do I say that? you may ask.
Because, once again, as I periodically do, I am up at midnight contemplating the possibility of starting up my diaper making business again! Of course, this brilliant moment includes the simplifying changes I would make.
Why is this even a problem? you may ask.
Because, when I was doing it, it sucked the joy out of diaper sewing for me. It stressed me out ridiculously. I have felt so much better since I stopped doing it.
So, why?? Why would I even think it. I can not say. I must just be delusional.
This is a simple fact.
Why do I say that? you may ask.
Because, once again, as I periodically do, I am up at midnight contemplating the possibility of starting up my diaper making business again! Of course, this brilliant moment includes the simplifying changes I would make.
Why is this even a problem? you may ask.
Because, when I was doing it, it sucked the joy out of diaper sewing for me. It stressed me out ridiculously. I have felt so much better since I stopped doing it.
So, why?? Why would I even think it. I can not say. I must just be delusional.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Hmmm
You know.. I am really not very good at keeping up with this.
Funny thing about it is, I used to write all. the. time. when I was young. Like, couldnt stop me. Like "gimme a napkin, i need to write something". Like, words fell out of my brain like candy from a pinata.
No, that doesnt mean you may hit me in the head with a stick.
Funny thing about it is, I used to write all. the. time. when I was young. Like, couldnt stop me. Like "gimme a napkin, i need to write something". Like, words fell out of my brain like candy from a pinata.
No, that doesnt mean you may hit me in the head with a stick.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Solstice
Enjoy the solstice as it comes and passes.
I am leaving a fresh spring and entering a tumultuous summer.
Let it please be kind.
I am leaving a fresh spring and entering a tumultuous summer.
Let it please be kind.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Calling out the Liars!
For a company that provides chemically laden products that not only cause severe rashes and burns (dry max), as well as damaging reproductive health, and using cancer causing products (dioxin), neurotoxins and the same chemicals (SAP) that were banned from tampons... I think Pampers needs a dictionary to learn the difference between FACT and MYTH. companies that use outright lies, should not receive our money!
Pampers, the producers of MYTH:http://www.pampers.com/en_US/diapers-myths-and-facts
learn some FACT:
http://www.realdiaperassociation.org/diaperfacts.php
Companies that lie *cough* Pampers *cough* Monsanto, will not be receiving my dollars!
edited to add: http://gomestic.com/family/what-is-a-disposable-diaper-made-of-anyway/#comments
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Releasing
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