We're surviving, if you’re wondering. So much has changed and my life looks really different than it did just two months ago. I love being outside and being active but now I sit in a chair all day inside a fluorescently lit room. I love travelling and going new places but for now I have the exact same routine every single day. I love my friends but I’m currently alone the majority of the time. I like my work and I just quit last week, which I sobbed over for a day straight while dramatically uttering - who am I?
But that’s nonsense really because Colette will be ok and some people would kill to sit in a comfy chair all day and binge watch Glee. Yes, Glee. Trever threatens me often with angry words over the fact that our daughter might like musicals due to this recent addiction. But, DGAF. So what if her favorite childhood movie is Newsies. People who like Newsies are really. cool. people.
As far as a medical update, it has been drama. Post surgery, Colette started eating and got to about half of where she needed to be to go home when she suddenly stopped tolerating her food. So they did a contrast study with an x-ray and found that once again her stomach is kinked and there is no food passing through. So surgery again. But first they have to wait for her bowels to completely heal from her last surgery, which would put us back in the O.R. in about a month. So for now we wait.
Every time things start going well, in my head I subconsciously move out of the hospital and prep for coming home, only to hit another block in the road and find that my fragile, flickering light at the end of the tunnel has just tragically gone out. So I have to re-adjust myself and settle back into hospital life. It usually takes about a day and involves a lot of crying. You should know my lane of emotional homeostasis is very narrow. All of this crying is very distressing.
But also, she’s growing up and getting so cute. She coos and smiles and holds her head up like a champ. She has a super mellow personality and doesn’t really fuss much. She has strong eye contact and has inherited my big eyes and thus a resting shocked face. In her photos people comment, “the Brooke look”. For the rest of her life people will think she is perpetually surprised and for the rest of her life she will probably feel perpetually mellow.
I’m trying hard not to miss it. I think constantly - I can’t wait until Christmas because we should be home by then and this will all be over. But then she’ll be six months old and her little baby phase will be over. I don’t want to spend those few precious moments wishing I was somewhere else. So I’m settling back into the hospital way of life.
We’ll be ok and that's my update for now.
P.S. this is a light-hearted post. I also have majorly depressing thoughts due to daily walks through the lobby of a children’s hospital, but I’ll save those for later and it might do you good to avoid them.