I was holding Lis last night for her last feeding (HA that was a joke, she woke up a gazillion times last night) of the night. She was so tired that she was falling asleep eating, and it got to the point where she was “sucking” but just moving her lips, but not actually doing anything else. So, I took the bottle away and snuggled her.
Lis was out. Her little rosebud mouth was hanging open, her checks were all puffed up, she had one hand flung up over eyes, as if we had named her Scarlett instead. Her other hand was wrapped around my index finger. When she falls asleep, she’s like her dad—she twitches. So, there was the occasional leg twitch, but mostly, the twitches resulted her in gently, repeatedly, at fast but random intervals, squeezing my finger.
I completely lost it. The tears were just rolling down my face. This sweet baby has a huge incision that is starting to scar from ear to ear across the top of her head. I did that to her. Yes, it needed to be done, but still. I made that happen. I don’t seem to be able to get past it.
I’m having nightmares about this whole thing, even though we’re post-surgery. They’ve been slowly increasing in frequency and intensity. Sometimes, it’s just reliving it; sometimes, it’s like seeing all ways it could have gone horribly wrong, and living out those nightmares in my sleep.
We don’t have cable—we stream TV from our Apple TV and from Netflix. So, our “screen saver” on our TV is all of our collective photos. Yes, we were all sitting around, I was holding Lis, when pictures from the surgery popped up. Vor, Vor’s mom, Vor’s sister were all looking at the pictures as they flashed by, talking about how scary it was, and how much better she is now. Thankfully, they were absorbed in that, because if they had looked at me, they would have seen me making a fool of myself, crying silently, holding Lis, remembering, watching, reliving, blaming, what-if-ing.
Everyone else seems to be getting past it., including Lis. It’s just me. Her incision is becoming a scar, and the parts that have already scarred are fading. Mine… isn’t.
Okay, fine, you can email me at graceandpressure [at] yahoo [dot] com. Don't all flood me with emails at once, you know. If you're emailing about craniosynostosis, put it in the subject, and I'll respond quicker. Deal? Deal.