Rough days


As we sat in the lab waiting area, she had no idea what was about to happen to her. She laid in my lap, relying on me for comfort and looking at the other people. She made little happy sounds and waited like a good girl. But then, we were called – “Miss Dakota Smith!” – and I placed her on my lap in a different kind of chair and held her legs between mine and her right hand down tight. The nurse tied a blue rubber band around her upper arm and the look on baby’s face was something contorted in horror as a small needle went into her vein and how that child did howl. It went on for what seemed like an eternity. The blood was not flowing fast enough and the sheet requested three huge vials. A second nurse arrived and helped to hold her arm at just the right angle. Once one seemed depleted, they switched to the other and that one was better. But it must have been a solid ten minutes of crying. Towards the end she was getting tired and would hiccup and stop for a second before starting again with the wailing and shaking her head no. Finally, they were done and we had to leave that place, each and every old person staring at us, silently saying, “So THAT is the baby who was screaming.”

I’m a firm believer in getting things out of the way all at once so we headed to Radiology for her bone age Xray. That was ok, considering. The building is nice and they have a play area; we only waited five minutes.IMG_20140820_083551

The scan was only of her left hand and was over before it began. In the car, Little Bit fell asleep and I realized just how stressful that whole thing had been. All three of my children had to have blood drawn when they were infants. With babies, they take it from the heel and the child recovers fairly quickly. I’ve done it; I’m strong. But this? This was ten times worse. I physically had to come down from the adrenaline that had been rushing through my body. I took a shortcut back to the daycare but there was a random bus broken down in the middle of the road, causing me to take a much longer route.

When I got her to daycare she seemed happy to see her friends; she appeared to be no worse for wear and toddled into the room and claimed her seat at the table for snack time. Feeling like that was finally over, I went on to work where I encountered more traffic issues. It was dorm move in day so I waited – I kid you not – ten entire minutes to turn a corner to get to my parking lot. I could see the lot the entire time and the one spot left. I was losing my mind! Finally, I got parked and walked up the side of Diffenbaugh towards Williams and I found myself lost amidst the hordes of wanna-be sorority girls. Thick they were, everywhere and not a lick of sense to move out of the way for people. If you weren’t 17, wearing the identical dress as 15 others, or sporting utterly non sensible shoes, you were excluded and ignored, which means I plowed through the throngs. When I got to my building, they blocked every inch of the stairs leading in and I broke. I said, “Come on now, people work here. You can’t block an entire entryway.” When some muttered, “I’m sorry”, I totally said, “No you’re not.” And I went in the building as fast as I could and got to my office. I realized I was shaking. I was upset about the baby and then all these traffic things and these stupid entitled girls and I just couldn’t cope. Sitting down at my desk to do work was the most calming, most zen experience of my morning.

Today is better. In fact, yesterday got better. Ash wanted to go to a co-worker’s going away thing right after work so even though I felt at the end of my rope (the rest of my work day was not so zen-like) I got the kids and just kept plugging away: dinner for baby, take care of dogs, make food for boys, try to be involved with them as well. I drank some beer, enjoyed being home. When Ash did get back, I clocked out.  Took a bath, read this kind of bad/kind of good YA novel called Nero, and then I did dishes and laid on the couch all. night. long.

It always seems like these sorts of things come up when my life is already so busy that I feel like one more block on the stack will make everything topple. I know it’s a test; I grew up under the pretense that God always tests us but never gives us more than we can handle. So I just figure, I can handle this. Perhaps I will get results on Baby’s tests today. Perhaps it will be something we can fix and maybe she is just small. Maybe she is petite and will become an amazing gymnast.  I don’t know what they will say but I am making sure I am prepped to handle whatever the result is. I have to, or else I’ll sit here and worry about every little thing. And that is no way to be.

 

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