Oh boy…
Yesterday was an unexpected hard day. Joey and I went to the eye doctor. This is the eye doctor we saw in the hospital, not the surgeon he has been seeing. The surgeon released us after his last surgery and so we are back to his original eye doctor to hopefully keep his good eye well taken care of.
So I decided that I would venture all the way downtown to the hospital without help for the first time. It’s a long drive and so far, I have always had someone sit in the back with Joey when I have gone. But not this day. I was going to do it all by myself. I know it sounds silly. Moms travel by themselves with their new babies all the time. But I am still nervous. I think about his monitor going off while I am on the freeway. Could I pull over in time? I think about car accidents. I will drive very cautiously. And boy did I ever!
I was constantly aware of places I could pull over. I made sure his monitor was in the front seat so I could see it clearly. I kept putting my hand over his car seat to hold his hand, to feel his little squeeze. When I started out, it felt familiar. And my thoughts drifted to Eli. I started talking to Eli. I felt dark thought, angry thoughts entering my brain so I tried to turn them. I spoke out loud, feeling tears well up in my eyes, “Hi angel baby Eli, will you look out for Mommy and Brother today? Will you keep us safe and sound?”
The tears flowed steady but I didn’t sob. I just kept wiping them away. I started thinking about all the drives to the hospital, all the times I went to see the boys. I started thinking about when Joey was first released and how hard it was to leave Eli behind. I started thinking that he would have probably been home with us by now had everything gone according to plan. I remembered how we had originally had organized both car seats in the back and how now there was only one. I remembered feeling so excited knowing there would be two babies back there.
As we got nearer to the hospital, I found myself talking to Joey a lot. I was telling him how Mommy would come to see him and brother every day and how excited I would get when I turned onto Fannin. My heart would start pounding hard when I saw the tower of Texas Children’s and I knew I would see their sweet faces soon. I always missed them so much at night. This familiar feeling began to warm my body for an instant. I actually felt like I was getting closer to Eli. I forgot that he was gone, that he wasn’t there and for a moment, I was actually feeling excited, that old feeling of comfort, the feeling that I would see my precious angel very soon.
But then I realized what was really happening. My visualization was ripped from my head and the truth of reality stabbed my heart. I felt the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Now I was starting to cry.
“No!” I told myself. I have to stop this, I had to focus on the task at hand. I was going to get through this.
So we pulled into the same old parking garage and I went to my same old spot. I told myself to park somewhere different but in the end, I didn’t. We went inside and upstairs to the 5th floor. There were already people there waiting in line and it was only 7:15AM. I always look at all the children at the hospital. They are so beautiful to me. They are usually all in similar situations as Joey, possible preemies that have ROP. I also look at their mothers. They always seem protective and there is a wisdom in their eyes. A wisdom of an experience that can only be understood by mothers who have gone through the same thing.
So I checked in and sat down. I watched mothers and children sit down. There was a family, a mom, dad, two sisters and their baby. I eavesdropped and realized they drove in from Beaumont for their appointment. There was a precious little boy, around 6, very thin and he had very thick glasses on. He was so outgoing. He had bonded immediately with one of the sisters from Beaumont and they were sitting together watching Madagascar. The girl got up to get a book and this little boy had so much to say about the book, about the movie. I wasn’t listening to what he was saying, just watching him. He was protecting himself from his fear of the exam by staying busy, very busy and distracted.
I looked down at Joey and he was sleeping. He was such a sweet boy, a good boy during his drive. I got him close to me and gave him lots of kisses. Then the mother of the thick-glasses boy called to him and said, “come on, we’re going in”. The boy was very close to me and he looked at her and said quietly, “we’re going in. ok”. He started to follow her and then slowly just sat down in a chair as if to contemplate what was happening. I wanted to go to him and comfort his worries so desperately. But instead, his mother walked up to him very aggressively and said, “Boy! I told you to come! You better come when I tell you!” He got up and scurried after her, fear in his eyes.
My heart just broke and I began to cry. I felt such sadness for that little boy. He was just a child and had probably been through so much. And here was this mother who may have had a hard heart, or maybe she was sick of it all, or maybe she was having a bad day…but this was only a child. And I knew that no matter what, I would always be compassionate to my sweet babies’ worries. I knew that we would be spending a lot of time at doctor’s appointments and hospitals and I always wanted him to feel safe and reassured and loved. I imagined her kneeling down next to him and telling him it would be ok, that she would be by his side the whole time, that she needed him to be brave so they could make sure his eyes were ok. I imagined him giving her a hug and then the mother standing up, holding his hand as they went to the exam. I wished that had happened, I wished I hadn’t witnessed what I saw.
I don’t know all the circumstances behind that situation but I knew that more than anything, I wished I had Eli. I used to worry that Eli would have a lot of problems, a lot of issues to overcome. I knew that we would do it together as a family. I knew Joey would have issues too but I thought that as long as they had each other, we could all encourage each other. They would both be there at doctor’s appointments, there to love each other, there to support each other. And now, Eli wasn’t there.
I just sat there in my own little world, in that chair, in the hospital where Eli died and I cried tears. I wasn’t sobbing, I was just shedding tear after tear and wiping each one away. I didn’t want anyone to see me, to feel sorry for me, to wonder why I was crying. I was going to get a grip but I needed to let these tears fall. They were tears for Eli, for that little boy with the glasses, for Joey…for me.
Just then a nurse came by and asked if I was Joseph’s mom. That always sounds so strange when they call him Joseph. He’s Joey! Or Joey Bear. I said yes and she asked if I was ok. I said I would be fine and managed to mutter through the words, “Joey’s brother recently passed and I’m still having a hard time”. She managed to say she was sorry through her indifferent tone, one I have become accustomed to time and again when people catch me in tears at random places and times.
In the exam room, she was unable to find Joey’s file on the computer which seemed strange to me since he was in the hospital for 4 months so she asked a lot of questions about his history, his brother’s history. I kept telling her that this doctor knew Joey, had done two laser surgeries on him and I cried through the family history questions she had to ask about my miscarriage, loss of a child, no living siblings for Joey. She responded by handing me tissues and insensitively slamming cabinet doors that startled sleeping Joey. She said she wasn’t used to sleeping babies as she put eye drops in his closed eyes repeatedly.
She left and I sat with Joey watching him sleep. It seemed like ages before she returned to inform me that she still couldn’t find his online file but that the doctor had overheard her and sent his nurse to his office to get Joey’s file. She assured me that this meant he obviously knows my baby. Duh.
The doctor came in shortly thereafter and he is such a kind man. He shook my hand hello as I hadn’t seen him since before Eli passed away and he held it softly and then lingered a bit. I felt his sorrow for me and it comforted me. He didn’t say anything like, “I’m sorry” and I’m glad about that. I didn’t want it at that moment for some reason. He examined Joey, who hates his eye exams so much and asked questions about him, about how he had been. He told me that the eye surgeon had kept him updated consistently so he knew about the blind eye. He was wonderful. At the end, he gave me his cell phone number in case I had any questions or concerns. We wouldn’t see him again until Joey was 1 year old, to do a retraction test on his eyes. That’s when we would decide if he needed glasses.
The drive home was equally hard as I went through familiar places and roads. It was a long drive. It was a hard day. I’m glad it’s over and as I drove into the driveway I said, “Thank you angel baby Eli, for watching over us and helping to keep us safe today.”
Yesterday was an unexpected hard day. Joey and I went to the eye doctor. This is the eye doctor we saw in the hospital, not the surgeon he has been seeing. The surgeon released us after his last surgery and so we are back to his original eye doctor to hopefully keep his good eye well taken care of.
So I decided that I would venture all the way downtown to the hospital without help for the first time. It’s a long drive and so far, I have always had someone sit in the back with Joey when I have gone. But not this day. I was going to do it all by myself. I know it sounds silly. Moms travel by themselves with their new babies all the time. But I am still nervous. I think about his monitor going off while I am on the freeway. Could I pull over in time? I think about car accidents. I will drive very cautiously. And boy did I ever!
I was constantly aware of places I could pull over. I made sure his monitor was in the front seat so I could see it clearly. I kept putting my hand over his car seat to hold his hand, to feel his little squeeze. When I started out, it felt familiar. And my thoughts drifted to Eli. I started talking to Eli. I felt dark thought, angry thoughts entering my brain so I tried to turn them. I spoke out loud, feeling tears well up in my eyes, “Hi angel baby Eli, will you look out for Mommy and Brother today? Will you keep us safe and sound?”
The tears flowed steady but I didn’t sob. I just kept wiping them away. I started thinking about all the drives to the hospital, all the times I went to see the boys. I started thinking about when Joey was first released and how hard it was to leave Eli behind. I started thinking that he would have probably been home with us by now had everything gone according to plan. I remembered how we had originally had organized both car seats in the back and how now there was only one. I remembered feeling so excited knowing there would be two babies back there.
As we got nearer to the hospital, I found myself talking to Joey a lot. I was telling him how Mommy would come to see him and brother every day and how excited I would get when I turned onto Fannin. My heart would start pounding hard when I saw the tower of Texas Children’s and I knew I would see their sweet faces soon. I always missed them so much at night. This familiar feeling began to warm my body for an instant. I actually felt like I was getting closer to Eli. I forgot that he was gone, that he wasn’t there and for a moment, I was actually feeling excited, that old feeling of comfort, the feeling that I would see my precious angel very soon.
But then I realized what was really happening. My visualization was ripped from my head and the truth of reality stabbed my heart. I felt the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Now I was starting to cry.
“No!” I told myself. I have to stop this, I had to focus on the task at hand. I was going to get through this.
So we pulled into the same old parking garage and I went to my same old spot. I told myself to park somewhere different but in the end, I didn’t. We went inside and upstairs to the 5th floor. There were already people there waiting in line and it was only 7:15AM. I always look at all the children at the hospital. They are so beautiful to me. They are usually all in similar situations as Joey, possible preemies that have ROP. I also look at their mothers. They always seem protective and there is a wisdom in their eyes. A wisdom of an experience that can only be understood by mothers who have gone through the same thing.
So I checked in and sat down. I watched mothers and children sit down. There was a family, a mom, dad, two sisters and their baby. I eavesdropped and realized they drove in from Beaumont for their appointment. There was a precious little boy, around 6, very thin and he had very thick glasses on. He was so outgoing. He had bonded immediately with one of the sisters from Beaumont and they were sitting together watching Madagascar. The girl got up to get a book and this little boy had so much to say about the book, about the movie. I wasn’t listening to what he was saying, just watching him. He was protecting himself from his fear of the exam by staying busy, very busy and distracted.
I looked down at Joey and he was sleeping. He was such a sweet boy, a good boy during his drive. I got him close to me and gave him lots of kisses. Then the mother of the thick-glasses boy called to him and said, “come on, we’re going in”. The boy was very close to me and he looked at her and said quietly, “we’re going in. ok”. He started to follow her and then slowly just sat down in a chair as if to contemplate what was happening. I wanted to go to him and comfort his worries so desperately. But instead, his mother walked up to him very aggressively and said, “Boy! I told you to come! You better come when I tell you!” He got up and scurried after her, fear in his eyes.
My heart just broke and I began to cry. I felt such sadness for that little boy. He was just a child and had probably been through so much. And here was this mother who may have had a hard heart, or maybe she was sick of it all, or maybe she was having a bad day…but this was only a child. And I knew that no matter what, I would always be compassionate to my sweet babies’ worries. I knew that we would be spending a lot of time at doctor’s appointments and hospitals and I always wanted him to feel safe and reassured and loved. I imagined her kneeling down next to him and telling him it would be ok, that she would be by his side the whole time, that she needed him to be brave so they could make sure his eyes were ok. I imagined him giving her a hug and then the mother standing up, holding his hand as they went to the exam. I wished that had happened, I wished I hadn’t witnessed what I saw.
I don’t know all the circumstances behind that situation but I knew that more than anything, I wished I had Eli. I used to worry that Eli would have a lot of problems, a lot of issues to overcome. I knew that we would do it together as a family. I knew Joey would have issues too but I thought that as long as they had each other, we could all encourage each other. They would both be there at doctor’s appointments, there to love each other, there to support each other. And now, Eli wasn’t there.
I just sat there in my own little world, in that chair, in the hospital where Eli died and I cried tears. I wasn’t sobbing, I was just shedding tear after tear and wiping each one away. I didn’t want anyone to see me, to feel sorry for me, to wonder why I was crying. I was going to get a grip but I needed to let these tears fall. They were tears for Eli, for that little boy with the glasses, for Joey…for me.
Just then a nurse came by and asked if I was Joseph’s mom. That always sounds so strange when they call him Joseph. He’s Joey! Or Joey Bear. I said yes and she asked if I was ok. I said I would be fine and managed to mutter through the words, “Joey’s brother recently passed and I’m still having a hard time”. She managed to say she was sorry through her indifferent tone, one I have become accustomed to time and again when people catch me in tears at random places and times.
In the exam room, she was unable to find Joey’s file on the computer which seemed strange to me since he was in the hospital for 4 months so she asked a lot of questions about his history, his brother’s history. I kept telling her that this doctor knew Joey, had done two laser surgeries on him and I cried through the family history questions she had to ask about my miscarriage, loss of a child, no living siblings for Joey. She responded by handing me tissues and insensitively slamming cabinet doors that startled sleeping Joey. She said she wasn’t used to sleeping babies as she put eye drops in his closed eyes repeatedly.
She left and I sat with Joey watching him sleep. It seemed like ages before she returned to inform me that she still couldn’t find his online file but that the doctor had overheard her and sent his nurse to his office to get Joey’s file. She assured me that this meant he obviously knows my baby. Duh.
The doctor came in shortly thereafter and he is such a kind man. He shook my hand hello as I hadn’t seen him since before Eli passed away and he held it softly and then lingered a bit. I felt his sorrow for me and it comforted me. He didn’t say anything like, “I’m sorry” and I’m glad about that. I didn’t want it at that moment for some reason. He examined Joey, who hates his eye exams so much and asked questions about him, about how he had been. He told me that the eye surgeon had kept him updated consistently so he knew about the blind eye. He was wonderful. At the end, he gave me his cell phone number in case I had any questions or concerns. We wouldn’t see him again until Joey was 1 year old, to do a retraction test on his eyes. That’s when we would decide if he needed glasses.
The drive home was equally hard as I went through familiar places and roads. It was a long drive. It was a hard day. I’m glad it’s over and as I drove into the driveway I said, “Thank you angel baby Eli, for watching over us and helping to keep us safe today.”
(pictured is Angel Baby Eli)
Andi-I am so glad that Eli was there with you to guide you through this difficult day. Thinking of you always.
ReplyDeleteI love you Andi.
ReplyDeleteAndi-It's so nice to read your updates on Sweet Joey..I'm so glad you Eli to help you through your day..He will always be there..I believe he loves his mommy..
ReplyDelete