I've forgotten Bobbin's appointments, to reply to emails (or have written them and then forgotten to hit send so they lay there in the draft and I wonder why they never replied to me), names, to return library books, to go to kindy, what time Map Guy is due home, you name it, even Bobbin's birth date!
Last week I forgot to buy eggs so I went to my parents' house at 9:20pm to get some to make a special cake for morning tea the next day then forgot to take said cake with me. Clever.
I've adjusted somewhat and now just write down everything. My phone beeps at me every five minutes it seems, reminding me of yet another task I don't really have time for. If it doesn't beep for a while instead of feeling relaxed I just feel anxious, wondering what I forgot to put in a reminder for.
So when I went to the hospital the other day for Bobbin to have a hip ultrasound (she has had clicky hips from birth) I was floored when I walked in to the imaging department and all the memories of being there with Tricky came flooding back. Bam.
Holding Bobbin, my breath caught in my throat and I had to focus on breathing slowly to stop myself from crying. Not that a parent crying there would be anything out of the ordinary. No one would bat an eyelid.
Because it was the only chair left, I sat in the exact same spot I sat in waiting for Tricky's CT scan when he was 11 weeks old. Nothing had changed in the three years since I had been there last. The yellow walls, the blue signs and the completely depressing atmosphere in spite of the cheesy smiles of the cartoon characters plastered all over the walls.
I remember sitting on the hard plastic, feeding Tricks, trying to make him sleepy so he wouldn't have to be anesthetized for the scan. A miscommunication meant we were waiting in the wrong spot and the other staff thought we hadn't shown up. I was getting frustrated and angry - this was my child that was having to wait but then I looked around and realized it was everyone's "my child" waiting in a snowed under department.
I don't feel traumatized by Tricky's rough start. To be honest I think that in the scheme of things Craniosynostosis is pretty minimal, really. Still, it was pretty huge to us at the time - the biggest thing I've ever had to deal with - but when all is said and done it is not the end of the world. It isn't life and death. A couple operations and it's all over thankyouvermuch. So I was so surprised that this visit to the hospital affected me the way it did. That the memories surged back so vividly.
At Bobbin's appointments, the doctors were all very gentle with me, carefully explaining the ins and outs of hip problems in babies and seemed really surprised to see me not fussed either way.
I felt like laughing when they asked if I was OK each step of the way. "Are you kidding? You should see what my last kid had!".
It may seem heartless but I the idea of her maybe needing a brace and a few ultrasounds and xrays didn't bother me. Perhaps it is because I had clicky hips as a babe. Maybe because I figured she'd just rock the frog look for a while and I'd be dressing her in green and calling her Kermy to complete the look. But either way, I didn't see it as something to worry over. And as it turns out, there was no need because she doesn't need the brace anyway.
The time we spent in the hospital with Tricks, and now these few appointments with Bobbin means we have seen so very many seriously ill children, some of which may never go home. Our brief foray in to the medical world has taught me to be grateful for what I have. So a wonky noggin, asthma, clicky hips and the like are nothing. So I might be forgetting to reply to your email but I won't forget how lucky I am to have two gorgeous kids.
|Bobbin completely chilled out for her ultrasound|