Bone crushing stress. That is the best description of how I'm feeling. When I talk like this Chuck let's me know how dramatic I'm being. The truth is I don't need to add any drama to life right now. It's doing a fine job on it's own.
We were supposed to hear from Lucy's cardiologist on Friday but he never called. The cardiologist met with the surgeon to discuss a date and a plan for Lucy's upcoming surgery. We have our spies and actually know a little bit of what was said in that meeting. But no date. Here's where the stress comes in. I don't even know how to describe it. Anytime I allow myself to think about her surgery I feel I'll. I start thinking about last time. How hard it was. I know things could be totally different this time but they could also be worse. This is my test of faith.
I keep telling myself, "it will all work out." And if it doesn't, it will still work out.
I keep thinking about my mom. When she was my age her baby with heart defects didn't survive. I think how much worse it could be. How so many people's kids are worse off than mine. Gratitude is sometimes the only thing that makes this bearable. But it's not always easy to get there.
The stress doesn't effect Chuck like it does me. I'm glad. I don't know what I'd do if we were both basket cases. It used to bother me. I've come to appreciate his apathy. He knows this. Now I only hope one day he comes to appreciate my dramatics. I highly doubt it.
The girls haven't been sleeping well. I looked in Hazel's mouth today and saw two new teeth, so I'm hoping that was the cause, at least for her.
I think for a couple of nights after we came home from the hospital Lucy was having nightmares. She has trust issues. It's really sad. She hates when anyone touches her arms and will pull away.
We have physical therapy twice next week which she hates. She has improved so much since her last visit though. We,ll find out if she needs special pants to keep her from doing the splits. Have I mentioned she does the splits? It's creepy. She looks like a little baby gymnast.
Hazel is not smiley at all. I think she is so funny. She has one really long piece of hair on her head that my mom and chuck keep telling me to cut. It's right over her dime size soft spot that hasn't closed yet. I asked the neuro surgeon last time we were in why that was happening and he told me I was crazy. I actually love going to the neuro surgeon's. It's always good news. She's still on track to get her helmet off in sept.
Jack is turning out to be a sweet little boy. He's so naughty but we'll just pretend he isn't. He's spelling and writing words. I'm so proud. He can verbally spell 2 or 3 dozen words. The funniest is when he just starts spelling random words. One day he was walking around, " writer, w-r-i-t-e-r." I have no idea where he learns things sometimes.
Its time to wrap this up. I didn't intend to write so much.