I Wish It Were Better

During the last few days in the hospital, Hana had been taking a bottle, or most of a bottle, several times a day. She also had been successfully breastfeeding once a day. At home, breastfeeding has made her vomit and she refuses to take a bottle. I went to Target and bought all different kinds of bottles, but she won’t take one at all. She vomited again this morning, although not very much. After all the fast improvements she made in the hospital I was hoping at home she would at least maintain where she was at home. Although her mood has certainly improved and she is certainly getting more and better sleep, it seems the vomiting and refusal to take the bottles are a backwards slide. This makes me sad. I wish it were better.

Sadness is something I am feeling a lot of. It is mourning. Mourning for the baby I thought I had. The one that I took to baby sign language class, took into the water at the public pool and carted all over the city on the public bus. It is mourning for the life I thought we would have, the kind of things I thought we would do, I would do, all of us would do together. There is worry, wondering if one day I will wake up and my baby won’t be breathing because her heart stopped. I feel sad. The amount of work to be done is also feeling overwhelming. My house is a disaster. Things are strewn everywhere. I can’t find a lot of things because they were grabbed quickly, or by someone else and have not yet made it back to where they belong. I have papers everywhere too. Just keeping up with pumping breastmilk, mixing formula, measuring medications, timing everything, giving her tube feeds is daunting. I am feeling discouraged that I will never be able to keep up, that I will continue to get further and further behind (and right now I have my mom here to help!). On top of that, I need some more sleep.

Hana looked into my eyes for a long, long time today and it felt like she was saying to me, “Don’t worry, I’m okay.” I know that is different from “I’ll be okay,” but for now, she is okay. I have to remind myself of that. Also, I have to remind myself to enjoy what I have today because I don’t know how long I will have it. Despite having a very, very sick heart, Hana manages to laugh and smile. She is still enjoying herself when she can and as much as she can. It is a joy to be her mother – to watch her, to hold her, to pat her to sleep. It is a wonder and it is wonderful.

Today we took some time off from everything and took a walk in the Presidio. Then we went and had sandwiches up at Alamo Square and enjoyed the warm weather and sunshine. It was a great break, especially after spending three weeks inside a hospital!