I always hesitate writing posts that I know will make me emotional and other people sad. But I created this blog to document the good and the bad of our life, because both are important.
Sam has been doing amazing in therapy. Over the long weekend I started the “transition” process–Sam is in his last week of clinic and next week home visits start. And so does the road toward being TUBE FREE. We have finally figured out what works best–the Haberman. Unfortunately, this has not become Sam’s best friend as well all hoped.
So far, I am the only one trained and “allowed” to feed Sam at home. It is a huge responsibility, and over the weekend, I had a Mommy Meltdown.
Sam usually tolerates being orally fed. It’s not like he enjoys the process, but he has never, ever cried for me. Until Sunday. Sunday afternoon, Sam decided he was MAD. He saw me coming with the bib and stack of paper towels, and I swear… the kid threw daggers into my heart with the look he gave me.
After being done with the set-up, I walked over to get him and the crying started. I put him in his feeding seat, and the crying intensified, along with him doing everything in his little 15-pound power to get out of that seat. I strapped him in and felt like I was security at a psych ward. The crying got louder, and as I went to drape him in paper towels (to weigh the “spillage”), the crying turned to outright hysterics.
We’re trained to ignore inappropriate behavior because it could just be Sam’s way of trying to get out of something he doesn’t want to do: i.e. EAT.
Try telling that to a mom whose child is crying uncontrollably and is still supposed to say, “Sam, here are the rules!” in a super chipper voice and smile as I clamp his mouth shut after squirting in formula and counting “1-2-3-4-5” in sing-song. It’s horrible.
The hysterics continued, and pretty soon the inevitable happened… he had a major vomit. Guess what I’m trained to do? Keep going.
Yep, wipe that vomit away, and keep going and act like nothing happened.
Momma kept going, sing-song voice and all, and called Adam in from outside. I told him to take care of picking up Sam and weighing the paper towels/bottle/etc. because I couldn’t take it. I started crying; crying out of frustration, crying out of sadness, crying out of terror–what if he never learns to eat?
I picked myself up, and went upstairs to shower. Sometimes it’s the only thing that relaxes me.
My mom told me something last week and it’s what I had to keep thinking about in the shower–no matter how frustrating this time is, it is NOT last Thanksgiving. Be grateful I have this to be frustrated about. Be grateful I have my little boy who cries.
I’m of the firm belief that preemie-parents are the only parents who ever want their children to grow up faster. We just want to know that they’re going to get there. Whatever there is.
My poor Jack has started to notice we are dealing with Sam the majority of the time too, and has started just randomly crying. The minute I even start to walk his way, he lights up and smiles his big, beautiful smile. If I turn around to leave again, the tears start flowing. It kills me.
Adam is on nightfloat this month (basically, he works M-F nights from 6:00pm-7:00am the next day), and being a single mom is HARD. I won’t lie. In the past, I wanted to be Super Mom, and thought I could be. No one can be.
We do our best not to let the boys see how frustrated we are with our situation. But after a weekend of having family in town (Gma and Gpa Stibbe!), we can’t help but realize how much easier life would be if we were near family. Omaha is wonderful, but it’s not home. We have a handful of friends left in Omaha, and that’s it.
If I sound like I’m complaining, I really don’t intend to! Venting–yes. Venting with the world–feels weird, but cathartic.
Here are some pictures of my beautiful boys!
6 Comments Add yours
trisha–venting is a requirement in parenting, my best friend has a son that was born with cerebral paulsy and also had a brain bleed and is blind and unable to eat and has a permanent feeding tube. Just watching the frustration in her eyes is tough. Stay strong and never give up on yourself. Every day will get easier for you!! I admire your strength and so do your kids….LOVE YOU!!
Trisha…mommy meltdowns are totally normal (I’m sure you probably heard about a few of mine that happened AT the clinic!)!!! Being a mom is hard work…being a mom of a kid that doesn’t eat is SUPER hard work! Trust me…my guy hasn’t eaten in 6yrs. You are a wonderful mom…that was obvious to me the first time I met you. Your patience is amazing…I could tell that with how great you were with my kids. Keep your head up, Sam is doing great! Someday you will look back on this time and see how strong you are and that you are doing what is best for Sam.
Trish–I just finished reading your post and wish I were there to give you a big hug! I could feel your many emotions as I read each sentence–your frustration, sadness, loneliness, fear, joy, pride, determination, happiness and the immense love you have for your beautiful boys. I believe that love will see you through this challenging time just as it has in the past. Sam and Jack have come so far since last November with the help of so many wonderful people in their little lives–doctors, nurses, family members, friends and complete strangers who know your story and continue to keep you in their prayers each day. The boys are so blessed to have you and Adam as their parents–you’re doing an awesome job! Stay strong and keep the faith. The pictures are adorable as always…my favorite is seeing their backs and Mya looking at the camera! Love to all……
Trisha you are entitled to a meltdown and I wish I could be there more to help take some of the stress away. Your boys love you so much and they will always test you a bit. You can see just how much they love you when you walk into the room. (All three of your boys) I am so proud of you and thankful that you are the mother of my Grandsons. Amazing doesn’t even come close to how you have handled things. Stay strong, keep your Faith.
Hang in there Trisha. As mommies, we are entitled to those meltdowns. It comes with the territory. It is all a learning experience.
Hey Trisha – You Rock. You have family just an hour away, and they have failed you so far. I want a “start over!” (That’s what I tell my kids when I have a meltdown and wish I would have handled a situation less dramatically! “Lets just start this scene over!”) What can I do to help?! Love, Stef!