Blow It Out Your Bum, Hump Day!

I wish I could lie and say I was excited to take another crack at this physical therapy thing, but I won't. Not to be a whiner, but I was worried after last time that every one of my sessions would wreck me as completely as the first had and sap the dwindling will to continue existing in this pitiful state. On top of that there's stress over logistics.

I have always suffered anxiety about how "to get there" (downstairs, to class, to appointments, etc). I'm good at giving myself extra time, getting creative and if, I have no alternative, asking for help. I've had almost 30 years of practice at varying levels of mobility. Having a baby threw a wrench in this skill set because now it wasn't just about getting me there. Now there was Riley and all her stuff. We did it for months until the pain became too much and I consented to "whatever it takes" aka spinal fusion.

I've been post-op before, but rarely as an adult and never as a mother. I spent months unable to hold my baby or drive at all after my back surgery. I went nowhere for so long that it seems silly now to complain. I knew that I had to get myself to this physical therapy appointment. I made sure Mike could watch Riley and gave myself what was once plenty of time.

The 10ish minute drive there I was overcome with anxiety about parking (not uncommon for me even before this surgery). Would there be a close space? Handicapped spaces near a hospital are never easy to come by. I had to go on my crutches because I have trouble loading and unloading the wheelchair by myself. If there wasn't a close space I'd have to hoof it to and from the building, Driving home exhausted is scary even if it's a short drive.

Getting there, parking, unloading, drooping my crutches, locking the car, walking to the corner, crossing to the right side of the street, walking down the ramp and up to the desk put me there 5mins late. I hate being late. I felt like such a failure. I sank tiredly into a chair and watched the pregnant ladies waddle by on their way to the 2nd floor. I'm jealous of the glowing and not so glowing ones alike. I miss Riley, I don't want to be here, I've had almost 30yrs of pushing through and want to lay down instead of therapy.

I look at the clock it's 10minutes past me arriving 5minutes late. I don't want to go in anyway, but the lady next to me smells like cigarettes. Just then the cutest little toddler comes down the hall. I smile at him and to my surprise he runs towards me smiling and offers me the freebie pregnancy magazine he's holding, I laugh and thank him. He examines one of my crutches and than the other with deep concentration on his tiny features. It was at this point that his grandpa scooped him up and I bid him adieu handing back his waiting room literature.

Therapy itself was much the same as last week. My therapist bemoaned my only having 2 more visits (until the fiscal year resets in June) and the incredible weakness of my hips (which will be a huge and potentially dangerous problem when my hip is replaced). It hurt alot this time and despite my not terrible parking spot I was exhausted when I arrived back at my car. I sat there behind the wheel willing myself to "get it together" for a few minutes, but I cried anyway.

I got home which is good and hugged my baby which is fantastic, but I was wrecked again. I wish I could tell you that I stole away to a long hot shower and a nap, but alas it wasn't to be. Running things from the bed or couch still requires physical presence and consciousness.    

Surgeons, Singing, Stingray Salutes and Such

Picture the scarecrow From the Wizard of Oz in a suit expect he's no good with kids and awkward around people in general, that's my Orthopedic Doctor. No exaggeration. I had a mini nervous breakdown about going to his office for this follow up as it was beginning to personify all that is wrong in my life. Preparing myself for another hour or two wait the purgatory that is his waiting room and afraid I'd react over emotionally to anything he said, I brought Riley.

I got myself and my moral support there on time and was the first patient to sign in that morning. I had forgotten a sippy so after discovering one with milk residue in the bottom of it under the carseat, I had a plan. I wheeled into to the bathroom with Riley on my lap and washed it out with soap and water, just like college. After I dried it with a burp cloth I filled it in the water fountain and we were good to go. Not exactly rocket science, but I felt like MacGyver.

We only got through one read of each of the books I brought for her before they called me back. She sat with the nurse for 2mins of X-rays and then we were in a room. True to form the Ortho hadn't even glimpsed at my chart before he came in the room. He glanced nervously at Riley sitting sweetly in a chair with her toy and then said "So, are you scheduled?"
"For physical therapy? I just started."
"Well that's good, but I meant for your hip."
"Oh. No. You said to wait 6 weeks and see how the pain was. This is my 6 week appointment"
"Ok, how's your pain?"
"Hip pain is minimal."
"Good let's try to give it a year. It'll have to come out, you know."
"Yes, I understand and that sounds good to me. About my back (I give him a detailed description of my pain and ask a few questions)"
"Well, Katie I just don't know. How long along ago did we do that?" (the chart's open in front of him)
"May"
"Oh, yeah well the recovery time on a spinal fusion procedure is 2yrs. You're not even halfway there."
Makes you feel warm and fuzzy doesn't it. Anyway, he put me on prn which means I call him when I want to come in. The exception is that in May I have to come get an X-ray of my back (and every subsequent May). Fine by me.
We were done and in the car by 9:23. Amazing. I had canceled another appt at 10:30 thinking we'd never be out in time (we never have been in the past). Mike didn't believe me when I called to say I was done.

The Rest Of My Day

I decided since we were close Riley and I would swing over to the library. I'd been staring at the back of her board book in the waiting room and wanted to see if the library had one of the other books by that author. More urgently though Riley had filed her diaper and I knew the library had a changing table unlike the Ortho's office. There's no more diaper changing on the fly with this back. I noticed quite a few little ones filing in to the library when we got there and wondered in passing if it was Mother Goose day. The librarian in the children's section assured us it was.

Riley was uncharacteristically shy. She left my lap but only stood far enough way to still be able to rest her head on my knee. She refused to be a teapot, but was excited enough by the itsy bitsy spider puppets to clap at the end. When time was up Mother Goose, who was in her twenties and wearing jeans, gave all the kids a Care Bear sticker. The highpoint for Riley.

They didn't have the book I wanted, but Riley colored a picture of a T-Rex. The little boy at the table with us was so funny and only used the golden rod crayon for his whole picture. Riley saw "The Busy Spider" by Earl Carle ("The Very Hungry Caterpillar" guy) and insisted on checking it out again. We had it 3mo ago and it was a covert operation to get it out house to return it. I tried to talk her into getting one of his books we hadn't read yet, but to no avail. We also got "Hilda Must Be Dancing" by Karma Wilson and Suzanne Watts. Wonderful book! I wonder if she knows Gerald from "Giraffes Can't Dance" by: Giles Andreae.

I even got a book for myself "Not Ready for Mom Jeans" by: Maureen Lipinski. It was totally a case of judging a book by it's cover. We'll see how it is, but it's written in blog entries so it's easy to put down and pick back up. We were all checked out and headed home by nap time.

It seemed like it was shaping up to be one of the better days especially when I came home from school with a reward for good behavior, but kids are as changeable as Boston weather. Riley woke up from her nap in a foul mood and it took Isaac over 2hrs to do 10mins worth of homework.

Things just went from bad to worse and none of it was helped by my current level of exhaustion. I tried to take a nap, but it just wasn't in the cards. I proclaimed at one point that I needed Mike to get a large shipping box and poke some holes because I was shipping the kids to China. Why do they always conspire to act up in unison?

All in a Day's Work for the Amazing Miss Roo

Riley had her 15mo check up today, oddly enough the day she turned 16mo. It's so strange to see the pediatrician at 12mo and then at 15/16mo. She was only rarely experimenting with walking last time we saw him. This time she was running all over the room. As an added bonus she'd also pulled down her skirt and was stepping out of it when the doctor came in.

I had my back to the door and was filling out some paperwork they gave us at the front when I heard "Why, hello Riley you've got no pants." Sure enough I looked down to see her smiling up at me in all her diapery glory. Good first impression I'm the mom who had all the surgeries wheeling in with Riley in my lap. It would be nice to at least look like I had things together.

Toddlers are great for keeping you modest. Dr. J was pleased with her growth. Her weight has apparently "tapered off." She's down to 18lbs 9oz below average for her age, but her height was exactly average at 33in. I guess it's her destiny to be tall and thin, my little ballerina.

He claims her infamous bump is stable, but I don't know how he can tell under all that hair. I know I should thank my lucky stars for such a healthy girl, but I miss life before hemangiomas. I only had about a week or so with Riley before those bumps appeared and it's likely they will never cause a problem and be gone by kindergarten, but Mike loves to do Internet research (especially when I ask him not to) and I'll be more comfortable when they're gone.

Today's poke was the MMR (Measles, Mumps, Rubella). I'm so glad this was the second to last of the 'shots every visit' appointments. I had some passing anxiety about shots without nursing during and after. It was the second time in a week I really missed "the magic boob." What could I console her with? It worked out that I was reading her a book in my lap (No, No Yes, Yes by: Leslie Patricelli)when he returned ready to do the deed. I continued reading and gently restrained her while he gave the poke. She started to cry so I shut the book so I could hold her. Isn't that amazing about toddlers? Even when you're the one who held them still while they got a shot or whacked their head pitting them in the car they still reach for you to be comforted. I know that won't last.

Through her tears Riley insisted, by opening the book right back up and pointing, that I continue. She had a valid point we hadn't finished the book. After we were done reading the book we made our way into the hallway where sobs had been replaced by inconsistent whimpers.

Dr. J's staff were kind enough to walk me out to the car which was such a help because I wanted nothing more than to get this tired (Thanks daddy for rescheduling this appointment during her nap time) cranky baby home fast. The wheelchair was folded and loaded, the baby was buckled and we were on our way in less than 5mins from arriving at the car (that's great time for hobble-along mommy).

As we pulled out I looked in my "child view" mirror and saw my pretty girl smiling in her big girl carseat and pretending to drink a cup of tea. The resilience of childhood should be harnessed!

Sicky McCrankypants Magoo

Yes, Riley's still at it. She's feverish, cranky and it's been almost 48hrs since she's eaten. I think this is the sickest she's been in her whole life. It's days like this that I wish I was still breast feeding. Poor, pathetic little Roo. We've been hanging out in my bed alot. Today my normally very busy little 15mo laid next to me for an hour of Shrek Forever After. Nap times which were sourly needed were awful because she had to be in her crib alone for that. She was so miserable all day.

At bathtime her fever seemed to be gone for good, but we discovered a rash all over her body. That's when alight bulb went on for me. I remember a mom at my new mom's group describing a terrible rash after a fever. It was that Roseola thing.

http://www.babycenter.com/0_roseola_1616.bc

Mystery solved. After bath her appetite finally returned! She started happily playing like she'd never been sick. Phew!

You would Cry too if it Happened to You

Hi, Ho. Hi, Ho. It's off to physical therapy I go. Unlike after the back surgery when I was chomping at the bit to start therapy this time I was less enthusiastic. Last time I couldn't move and I wanted some ability to care for myself back. I wanted something to work at after the trauma of my back so I could get past it emotionally. This surgery was far less traumatic.

The Ortho had promised whether they replaced my hip or not I wouldn't be allowed to bear weight for at least 8weeks. At my post surgery follow up he told me to bear weight as tolerated. It took me a few weeks to tolerate it at all and I still can't be on my feet long (or anywhere, but flat on my back for that matter). My point being I can move this time and I'm less traumatized so less excited to begin therapy.

I had no idea how anxious I was about the prospect until I burst into tears last night. I was unable to articulate it for long enough for Mike to lose interest. After sobbing in the living room by myself for awhile I wheeled into the bedroom and said "What if it doesn't get any better than this?" Worse than anything I could imagine what if I had traded the debilitating pain for this horribly limited condition. As my mind unraveled through the negative possibilities I realized there was something worse after all what if it got worse? What if I did all of this for nothing?

I hyperventilated until I was unconscious that night. I got up still worried, but resolved to get through it. Once again I was given a prescription of 3x a week for six weeks, but the insurance was even more stingy this time and I only get 4 visits. I have to pay out of pocket for anymore than that.

Beyond that I was full of false confidence that my physical therapist would be impressed with my mobility and healing, but my muscles as it turns out are super weak. We did a full hour session and then I headed home no less discouraged than when I arrived.

About an hour later the pain started. I am not a wimp and I was in tears most of the evening. Mike was stressed about work and has no real sympathy for the amount of hard work I had just done.

On top of everything else Riley is sick. I really hate being an adult on days like this. Swallowing my sobs so I could console a whimpering sick little baby and keep her out of Mike's hair while he worked. Sick toddlers, for those of you lucky enough not to know, absolutely refuse to be put down. So instead of sleeping or watching Grey's Anatomy and crying out my frustration and pain I consoled Riley in my bed with Elmo on. Yay, parenthood.

Drop Rail Cribs

Drop Rail Cribs

How can it be after decades of use that drop rail cribs are illegal. I am enraged first as a woman under 5feet and as a disabled woman. Why wouldn't they demand the cribs conform to a higher safety standard instead? Or at the least wait until a safer alternative that doesn't require lifting 10-30lbs of baby over a solid rail. I don't know what short and or disabled mothers will do? What are the options if you're not capable of lifting your baby over a solid rail. Letting the baby sleep in your bed? Not so safe. Mattress on the floor, again not so safe. What if you climb a step ladder lean down to put the baby in and slip. Either injuring the baby or cracking your own ribs? Is there no advocate for mothers?

I'm really distraught about this. My physical limitations make my independence as a parent difficult enough. Now popular opinion has caused the government to go to an extreme. If I were pregnant now I would be lost. I'm so sorry that babies got hurt, but we're not talking about lead paint here. We're talking about a staple of baby care.

Here Comes 2011...

Even though popular opinion seems to be that 2010 should not let the door hit it on the way out I, strangely enough, have no ill will for 2010. It absolutely refused to follow any of my plans and unrelentingly kicked my butt. I watched my little girl grow from a 3mo old infant all the way into a full fledged walking, talking 15mo old toddler. I watched Mike thrive at a job that not only paid the bills, but made him happy. I saw some old friendships change and fade and some new friends become family.

I had enough pain to be grateful for my strength, enough tears to cherish the laughter and enough love to keep going. I missed my body before all the pain, my life before the baby, my career before Mike, my parents before the divorce, but overall I was so grateful to be in a much better place than 2009 and (hopefully) on the road to lasting recovery.

I had exactly zero desire to ring in 2011 at a party New Years Eve so of course a babysitter materialized. I decided I couldn't no matter how tired pass up a night out without the kids. So I packed up some pajamas for the kiddos and one of their new movies and dropped them off with Grandpa and Grandma shortly after 7pm.

Dates are so few and far between we always have to get used to the aloneness for a bit. We went to a sushi place for dinner. The same restaurant we had been to almost a year earlier with a tiny newborn Riley. That first trip I did far less eating than sitting in the car breastfeeding. They had refused to make a reservation for a party of two on New Years Eve, but told me I was on the "wait list." Upon arriving I discovered that we weren't on any lists, but that there was informed "only one party ahead of us." The minutes passed and we watched what seemed like an endless parade of people come and go from the restaurant. Just when we began to wonder if we'd been forgotten we were seated.

I was told when Riley was about 2mo old to attempt to have a 5-10min discussion with Mike without talking about the kids. I think 15 months later we finally did it! Mind you most of the conversation found it's way to the kids, but in the form of lighthearted funny moments instead of the usual daily logistics. It was a nice dinner, worth the wait. Sitting the length of time it takes to get served at a restaurant is a challenge for my inflexible back and I was very worn out after we ate. It seemed too early to pick up the kids so we went home where I laid down and Mike checked his email, party animals all the way.

We went to get the kids around 9:45 and Riley was out cold in the pack and play as expected and Isaac was buzzing around in his super hero pajamas. They were surprised that we were back so soon, but I could tell they were ready for bed too.

We got the kids home to bed and Mike woke me up at midnight for a kiss. Happy New Year!!