Better Now

The antibiotics are working, as far as I can tell. No fevers now; pain is only occasional and could be more related to the antibiotics wiping out all the helpful flora in my body than to the infection. (It’s hard to say and I feel like a hypochondriac: in my craziness, every twinge could be a sign of a deadly condition.) I’ve shrunk, meaning the edema from all the drugs and fluids they pumped into me is pretty much gone–thank god. Looking down and seeing someone else’s hips, legs, ankles, and feet instead of my own was extremely disconcerting–a peculiar and powerful mindfuck I hope I never experience again!

I have ventured out of the house only a few times in the last two weeks, heading to doctors’ appointments and taking Lucas to some friends’ house for the day. Last night we dropped Lucas off at grandma and grandpa’s house and went to a fabulous birthday party. We stayed only a few hours and I wish we could have stayed longer, but I had a wonderful time while I was there. So many beautiful, shining people. So much love and joie de vivre packed into one house. I wish there were more time for visiting with out-of-town guests. The birthday girl was fantabulously tremendifous, as usual, and the hostesses and helpers deserve major points for creating such magic in the midst of extremely busy lives. Thank you, party people, for providing the most fun moments of my last month.

Lucas is hovering between being an endearing helper and an annoying snot lately. His amount of energy and activity has been far more than I can comfortably handle during these past two weeks at home. He’s bored with my recuperation and wants active attention from me, and I just don’t have a lot to give him. I feel bad about farming him out to friends’ houses for playdates and babysitting after vanishing from his life for six days straight, but there has been no way for me to manage/entertain him, take care of myself, and look after Asher. (Ian’s only been back to work for the last four days, prior to that, he was doing everything and taking care of everyone while I took pills, slept, pumped, and moaned.) I try to tell Lucas often how much I love him, and how happy I am to be with him, even if I can’t do all the things he’s like me to do. At least I’m well enough to cuddle him in bed every night at bedtime.

Asher is delightful. Fortunately, so far, he is an easy baby. He sleeps many, many hours every day. When he’s not sleeping, he’s sucking down formula like crazy. It’s frustrating to pump and dump my breastmilk every 3-4 hours (makes me feel like a dairy cow)and have to fix him bottles of formula. The truth is, if we were living 60 years ago, we both might have died because of this infection: me because of the infection, him because of inadequate nourishment. So, now I regret the bitchy thoughts I had at Costco a month ago when I watched a couple with a baby put a case of Enfamil in their shopping cart. I thought to myself, “my baby won’t have to drink that crap, and I won’t have to spend money on it.” Life threw me a curve ball.

I have a couple days’ worth of antibiotics left to take. I am hopeful that sometime this week I’ll get the doctor’s OK to breastfeed, that my milk will be in adequate supply for Asher’s voracious appetite, and that he will return to breastfeeding with ease instead of with resistance. They say it’s easier for babies to eat from a bottle; they don’t have to work as hard as when they suckle from a real breast. We’ll see if Asher has become a lazy eater in this time.

I’m fearful that after I take the last of the antibiotics the pain and fevers will return. This is probably just fear. I have a lot of fear these days. I am grateful to all the men and women who discovered/developed the wide range of available antibiotics: If penicillin were the only one, I’d be dead now.

So, morbid thoughts. Yep, I have a lot of them now. I have a lot of feelings that are ugly and frightening and big. It’s pretty crazy inside my head these days. Oh, one of the drugs I was on a week ago has depression as a side effect. Sometimes I do feel depressed. But I’m alive and safe and very, very well loved.

One Response to “Better Now”

  • amaniellen
    February 27, 2007 at 1:25 am

    I am so grateful that you are alive and recovering, curveball in hand.
    It was lovely to see you this weekend, and as all of these trips do, it went by all too quickly. I had a great time coloring and tickling Lucas, coloring ‘rainbow dragon’.

    As for all of this fear, it will pass. You will regain confidence. The thing is, your bubble of invincibility has been popped. The stark, cold reality of grim possibilities has invaded your happy space. The intensity is just a backlash. While all of this stuff is true, it’s not the biggest truth in the room, and will shrink in size the more time passes that you are healthy and gaining strength. watch it go by, you are healing. you are healing. you are healing. beautifully, I might add.

    love to you, sweet girl.

    Reply

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  • About Sara

    Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.

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    “Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” —Ursula K. LeGuinn

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