Sitting in the surgical waiting room, I hear several families get called to go see their child in recovery. The nurse calls the family's name, and the family rushes toward the door. As they walk across the threshold the nurse announces, "He's awake!" in a boisterous, cheerful tone.
Let me tell you, I want to punch* her for that family. Because when she announces to me that my child is awake, it will not be a comforting statement. "He did well", "He's doing fine/great/good", "Everything went exactly as planned", these are somewhat comforting statements. Hearing he's awake is not comforting, because it tells me he's terrified, because I'm not with him. He's scared when he wakes up at night if I'm not there. He's scared when he wakes up from a nap if I'm not there. And you can bet your sweet bippy that if he wakes up in recovery and I'm not there he is going to be scared. You have procedures and protocol and policies, I get it. But please don't use this opportunity to remind me of my son's fear, especially when there is nothing I can do about it.
There is a good chunk of medical professionals who act like this is all just everyday life. And for them it is. It is their everyday work life. When it is your real, actual everyday life, it is exhausting and terrifying and frustrating. I get that you as a medical professional can't necessarily emotionally engage with all (or any?) of your patients for your own sanity. That makes sense. I'm not unreasonable. But do you know what is not helpful for exhaustion, terror, and frustration? Cheerfulness. Cheerfulness glosses over true feelings and experiences. Do you know what acknowledges the hard paths your patients are on? Compassion. Helpfulness. Calm. Empathy. Listening. These are things that help communicate that you see the patient. Being cheerful tells me you are not on my team and you do not really care.
*the urge to punch is really not her fault. Most of the time it is bubbling just below the surface these days, waiting for any small reason to poke its head out.
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Saturday, January 31, 2015
On faith intersecting with watching your child suffer
One of the things that has been bothering me since Eli got sick is the lack of scripture pertaining to watching your child suffer (and death being a possible scenario). I hear a lot from Christians about taking joy in suffering. Paul (of the bible. Author of a lot if the New Testament) talked a lot about having joy in all circumstances, taking joy in suffering, suffering for his faith, guaranteeing trouble in this life, and on and on. But people that talk about joy in all circumstances (including Paul), I don't think watched their child suffer from a life threatening illness. Or laid in a hospital bed, holding their child's listless body while a team of people wheeled the bed to the PICU while others were administering drugs on the way. There's not a lot of joy there. Mostly fear.
To me there are two applicable stories in the bible about losing a child. The first is where Jesus heals Jairus' daughter. Jairus sought out Jesus because his daughter was so sick, near death, and he appeared to think Jesus was his only hope at that point. By the time Jesus gets to Jairus' house, the girl is dead. But Jesus says she's not dead, she's sleeping. He tells her to get up and she does. It's a miracle. I'll get to the second story about losing a child in a minute.
My issue with the story of Jairus is that there's no guarantee that if I just ask Jesus to heal my son, he'll do it. And I know this because I'm not the only parent with a sick kid who could die. There are TONS of parents begging Jesus to heal their child and let them live (here. On earth. Not heal them in death or in heaven, but nice argument.). I know some of these parents. They are some of the best people I know. However, it's not my favorite club to be in. And let me just say that I cannot believe or trust a God who would perform a miracle because someone believed enough, had enough faith. My faith IS shaky right now. But I don't think that's why God hasn't swooped down and miraculously healed Eli yet. (And if I do lose my son and you think it's because I didn't believe or trust enough, please come to my house so I can personally punch you. No, I mean it.)
Here's what I mused about today. God gives us gifts with an open hand. When we hold those gifts with an open hand both us and others are blessed by it. It's not diminished. When your kid gets a life threatening diagnosis the knee jerk reaction is to grasp more tightly, more desperately to them, so as not to let them go (as if you have any control). But what if I am to hold my children, as a gift, with an open hand? Will that change the outcome here on Earth? Nah, I doubt it. It might change me. (Not that I particularly want to change, I really just want Eli to be healthy again and life to go back to normal. Regardless of what happens, healed in life or healed in death, I don't think I get to go back to "normal". Dammitsomuch.)
Okay, so here's the other part of scripture about losing a child, connected through an experience of mine. I have a friend who lost her teenage daughter very suddenly a couple years ago. It was even more terrible and heartbreaking for my friend than you are thinking. At some point in the months following her daughter's death, I remember praying and weeping and begging God to relieve some of my friend's complete and total shattered heart. I remember telling God that it wasn't okay and no one should have to feel what my friend was feeling. That I could hardly breathe thinking about it, and I wasn't the one who had lost a child. That it was too much, and who was He anyway? And you can doubt me or dismiss me, but in my weeping and begging God told me He lost his son, too. He knows what it's like to lose a child because he lost his son, too. (Even in my shaky faith that's kind of a profound statement that still causes me to step back. So take it in for a minute.)...........Sure, in the last few months I've questioned God on that because he knew from the beginning what was going to happen, and his son DID ascend to be with him....but I can't argue too much with the fact that God did watch his son suffer and die.
So where does that leave me? I don't know, man. I'm not going to stop praying for my son to be healed (miraculously, or through medicine, or miraculously through medicine), even if I'm unsure about the receiver of my prayers. Maybe I could try holding him slightly less desperately in my heart with more of an open hand for receiving and giving....although that sounds like a joke because have you met any mothers? We specialize in desperate love. And "Here Lord, I trust you enough to take my son if that is your will" makes me ragey and want to puke.
So I have no way to tie this all up with a bow, nor do I really care. It's just some of the better thoughts I've had in the last few days. Go forth and kiss your loved ones.
To me there are two applicable stories in the bible about losing a child. The first is where Jesus heals Jairus' daughter. Jairus sought out Jesus because his daughter was so sick, near death, and he appeared to think Jesus was his only hope at that point. By the time Jesus gets to Jairus' house, the girl is dead. But Jesus says she's not dead, she's sleeping. He tells her to get up and she does. It's a miracle. I'll get to the second story about losing a child in a minute.
My issue with the story of Jairus is that there's no guarantee that if I just ask Jesus to heal my son, he'll do it. And I know this because I'm not the only parent with a sick kid who could die. There are TONS of parents begging Jesus to heal their child and let them live (here. On earth. Not heal them in death or in heaven, but nice argument.). I know some of these parents. They are some of the best people I know. However, it's not my favorite club to be in. And let me just say that I cannot believe or trust a God who would perform a miracle because someone believed enough, had enough faith. My faith IS shaky right now. But I don't think that's why God hasn't swooped down and miraculously healed Eli yet. (And if I do lose my son and you think it's because I didn't believe or trust enough, please come to my house so I can personally punch you. No, I mean it.)
Here's what I mused about today. God gives us gifts with an open hand. When we hold those gifts with an open hand both us and others are blessed by it. It's not diminished. When your kid gets a life threatening diagnosis the knee jerk reaction is to grasp more tightly, more desperately to them, so as not to let them go (as if you have any control). But what if I am to hold my children, as a gift, with an open hand? Will that change the outcome here on Earth? Nah, I doubt it. It might change me. (Not that I particularly want to change, I really just want Eli to be healthy again and life to go back to normal. Regardless of what happens, healed in life or healed in death, I don't think I get to go back to "normal". Dammitsomuch.)
Okay, so here's the other part of scripture about losing a child, connected through an experience of mine. I have a friend who lost her teenage daughter very suddenly a couple years ago. It was even more terrible and heartbreaking for my friend than you are thinking. At some point in the months following her daughter's death, I remember praying and weeping and begging God to relieve some of my friend's complete and total shattered heart. I remember telling God that it wasn't okay and no one should have to feel what my friend was feeling. That I could hardly breathe thinking about it, and I wasn't the one who had lost a child. That it was too much, and who was He anyway? And you can doubt me or dismiss me, but in my weeping and begging God told me He lost his son, too. He knows what it's like to lose a child because he lost his son, too. (Even in my shaky faith that's kind of a profound statement that still causes me to step back. So take it in for a minute.)...........Sure, in the last few months I've questioned God on that because he knew from the beginning what was going to happen, and his son DID ascend to be with him....but I can't argue too much with the fact that God did watch his son suffer and die.
So where does that leave me? I don't know, man. I'm not going to stop praying for my son to be healed (miraculously, or through medicine, or miraculously through medicine), even if I'm unsure about the receiver of my prayers. Maybe I could try holding him slightly less desperately in my heart with more of an open hand for receiving and giving....although that sounds like a joke because have you met any mothers? We specialize in desperate love. And "Here Lord, I trust you enough to take my son if that is your will" makes me ragey and want to puke.
So I have no way to tie this all up with a bow, nor do I really care. It's just some of the better thoughts I've had in the last few days. Go forth and kiss your loved ones.
Saturday, January 17, 2015
"I just can't imagine"
One thing Jerry and I hear a lot from other people regarding having a kid with a life-threatening illness is, "I just can't imagine!" It's okay, it's not offensive. Perhaps it's a bit distancing, but I get why people say it. I probably would have said it too, six months ago.
Except I think it's a lie. I think people tell us they "just can't imagine" because they actually CAN imagine just a tiny bit and it is utterly horrifying and terror-inducing. Yes, it is those things as well when it is real life and not just an imagining. But what can we do? We wake up every day to fight the good fight. It is exhausting, but it's what any parent would do. Which is why so many people just can't imagine. They know they'd go to the ends of themselves and the ends of the earth for their kid. But they maybe don't know what those places look and feel like. I've been there. I kinda live there right now. It's survivable. You could do it, too, if you had to. I hope you don't.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Made my day!
I got the best compliment today. I was picking up Ty early from school and also some work he had neglected. The school secretary told me his teacher brought the work and said she wasn't sure if she should leave it all because it was so much. Another teacher was in the office and asked who it was for, then after finding out it was for Ty, told his teacher that she should definitely leave all the work because Tyrell has a good mom that would work with him to get it done. It completely made my day.
It felt so good to hear that because I so often feel frustrated and as though I am failing as a parent in the education department (and being a former teacher is salt in the wound).
The reason I'm sharing is because it was too wordy for facebook we could all up our game when it comes to encouraging one another. If you are thinking something great about someone, tell them! They could probably really use the pick me up, and you both could use the smile. :)
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
A sad state of affairs
I had an interesting conversation with Ty today. First we started talking about college football. Nothing too deep, but he did refer to Fresno State as "Frendzo State" and Texas A&M as "Texas ATM". He cracks me up. :)
Then we started talking about college for him. It's a bit of an ongoing discussion in our house, the expectation that he will go to college, and the reality that some of the decisions he makes now will affect his college choices (football, grades, etc.). That sounds like a lot of pressure for a 13-year-old, but I promise it's not that serious, more of just creating an awareness for him and also the confidence that he is capable of going to to, being successful, and graduating from college.
The other thing that plays into Ty's college choices is that due to his time in foster care he has tuition waived at any state university in Florida. Yeah, baby! Basically every state gives "perks" to kids that have been in foster care and to families who adopt kids from foster care. Part of what Florida offers is waived tuition at any state school. So that's pretty cool for us. It also adds an element to any conversation about college, because money is part of the decision making process. Not that anyone's making decisions, again just more awareness.
Ty and I were talking about some of the schools in Florida and he asked what school is in Tampa (USF). I gave him a little info about it (huge, green and yellow, bulls). And then he asked about Orlando (UCF). I told him a little about UCF as well (big, not quite as big as USF, black and gold, knights, my friend Dana went there). Then he asked me if there had been any terror attacks or gunmen at either school. I told him no (I can't remember any....?) and he seemed satisfied. But it definitely bothers me that school shootings are on his radar as an expected event. Maybe they haven't happened everywhere, but they've happened enough that they're not what anyone would call "uncommon".
I was in high school when the Columbine shooting happened. It was a big freaking deal. Big. Ty wasn't born yet. He was 13 months old when the terror attacks on 9/11 happened. He witnessed violence personally early in life, and violence has continued to echo through current events and news reports throughout his life (news reports which I guarantee no one thought to TURN OFF due to the inappropriate nature of a young child watching massacres on TV) . He sees violent attacks and killings as something to expect regularly. Maybe that's the reality of our world, but it makes me so very sad that my child feels the need to consider that in his life decisions.
Then we started talking about college for him. It's a bit of an ongoing discussion in our house, the expectation that he will go to college, and the reality that some of the decisions he makes now will affect his college choices (football, grades, etc.). That sounds like a lot of pressure for a 13-year-old, but I promise it's not that serious, more of just creating an awareness for him and also the confidence that he is capable of going to to, being successful, and graduating from college.
The other thing that plays into Ty's college choices is that due to his time in foster care he has tuition waived at any state university in Florida. Yeah, baby! Basically every state gives "perks" to kids that have been in foster care and to families who adopt kids from foster care. Part of what Florida offers is waived tuition at any state school. So that's pretty cool for us. It also adds an element to any conversation about college, because money is part of the decision making process. Not that anyone's making decisions, again just more awareness.
Ty and I were talking about some of the schools in Florida and he asked what school is in Tampa (USF). I gave him a little info about it (huge, green and yellow, bulls). And then he asked about Orlando (UCF). I told him a little about UCF as well (big, not quite as big as USF, black and gold, knights, my friend Dana went there). Then he asked me if there had been any terror attacks or gunmen at either school. I told him no (I can't remember any....?) and he seemed satisfied. But it definitely bothers me that school shootings are on his radar as an expected event. Maybe they haven't happened everywhere, but they've happened enough that they're not what anyone would call "uncommon".
I was in high school when the Columbine shooting happened. It was a big freaking deal. Big. Ty wasn't born yet. He was 13 months old when the terror attacks on 9/11 happened. He witnessed violence personally early in life, and violence has continued to echo through current events and news reports throughout his life (news reports which I guarantee no one thought to TURN OFF due to the inappropriate nature of a young child watching massacres on TV) . He sees violent attacks and killings as something to expect regularly. Maybe that's the reality of our world, but it makes me so very sad that my child feels the need to consider that in his life decisions.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Story time/Book giveaway in Guatemala
Yesterday morning we were expecting 2 groups of a dozen or more kids to do story time, craft, and a book giveaway with. As per custom in Guatemala, we had a handful arrive 40 minutes early (kinda surprising), and most arrive half an hour late.
The plan was to read The Little Red Hen (en espanol), make "baulking chickens" with red solo cups, googly eyes, and wet string, and give a book to each kid to take home. I was a little nervous that it was going to be crazy or out of control, especially since it was all sort of my idea and I only have a few words in Spanish. But it went GREAT! Holly and Chris's son, Jack, read the book to the first group, and explained that the story was about helping others. Jon, another son, explained and translated much of the craft and the kids looooooved it! It was smiles all around. Then Holly figured out which kids needed a book on what grade level and we passed out books. So many of the kids began reading them right away- that made me want to burst with happiness! We took pictures, thanked the kids for coming, and cleaned up to get ready for the next group.
Ashleigh (my cousin and travel partner extraordinaire) shocked me by reading the book to the second group of kids! Seriously, you think you know someone, you've been family for nearly a decade, and then a girl goes and reveals that she's nearly fluent in Spanish. Makes me wonder what else she's hiding...:)
Jon helped again with the craft for the second group, the kids were given books on their grade level, everyone had a blast, we took pictures, thanked them for coming, and sent them on their way. I thought we were done. I was so pleased at how well everything had gone.
Then two of the kids from the second group showed up with more kids! I guess they enjoyed it so much they went and got their friends. Too cute. We had plenty of supplies and books, so we did story time once more for these kiddos. It was the same- all the kids smiling and laughing at their baulking chickens, reading their books. It was awesome!
What we did with the kids here is something that might be commonplace in the US. We take for granted that we have libraries with kids programs, or that we have libraries at all. Here in Magdalena you learn to read in school, if you go. If you struggle to learn in school there is no differentiated instruction in the classroom, or extra tutoring with the teacher before or after school, or library to get books to practice reading, or even literate parents to help at home. I don't know what the literacy rate is here, but many, many adults can only read on a very low level. Some cannot read at all. If you can't read, you have few options for work, and you have almost no opportunity to learn new things, to better yourself. You can't read the bible.
Case in point: We went to a key ceremony yesterday for a family receiving a house from the 12x12 Love Project. The grandfather was given a bible and was asked if he could read. He said only a little. Here this man was, given a book filled with a message of Love just for him, and he can't even access it. That is pretty commonplace here. It was such a contrast from hearing those little sweeties read their new books just hours before.
I'm not sure where I go from here. (Well, home. I go home tomorrow.) I have a lot of thoughts. There are women that would benefit so much from reading instruction. There are children, and a whole community, that would benefit from a library. I would love to come back and do story and craft time again. It's such a small thing in the face of so much poverty and illiteracy. But it's still something.
The plan was to read The Little Red Hen (en espanol), make "baulking chickens" with red solo cups, googly eyes, and wet string, and give a book to each kid to take home. I was a little nervous that it was going to be crazy or out of control, especially since it was all sort of my idea and I only have a few words in Spanish. But it went GREAT! Holly and Chris's son, Jack, read the book to the first group, and explained that the story was about helping others. Jon, another son, explained and translated much of the craft and the kids looooooved it! It was smiles all around. Then Holly figured out which kids needed a book on what grade level and we passed out books. So many of the kids began reading them right away- that made me want to burst with happiness! We took pictures, thanked the kids for coming, and cleaned up to get ready for the next group.
Ashleigh (my cousin and travel partner extraordinaire) shocked me by reading the book to the second group of kids! Seriously, you think you know someone, you've been family for nearly a decade, and then a girl goes and reveals that she's nearly fluent in Spanish. Makes me wonder what else she's hiding...:)
Jon helped again with the craft for the second group, the kids were given books on their grade level, everyone had a blast, we took pictures, thanked them for coming, and sent them on their way. I thought we were done. I was so pleased at how well everything had gone.
Then two of the kids from the second group showed up with more kids! I guess they enjoyed it so much they went and got their friends. Too cute. We had plenty of supplies and books, so we did story time once more for these kiddos. It was the same- all the kids smiling and laughing at their baulking chickens, reading their books. It was awesome!
What we did with the kids here is something that might be commonplace in the US. We take for granted that we have libraries with kids programs, or that we have libraries at all. Here in Magdalena you learn to read in school, if you go. If you struggle to learn in school there is no differentiated instruction in the classroom, or extra tutoring with the teacher before or after school, or library to get books to practice reading, or even literate parents to help at home. I don't know what the literacy rate is here, but many, many adults can only read on a very low level. Some cannot read at all. If you can't read, you have few options for work, and you have almost no opportunity to learn new things, to better yourself. You can't read the bible.
Case in point: We went to a key ceremony yesterday for a family receiving a house from the 12x12 Love Project. The grandfather was given a bible and was asked if he could read. He said only a little. Here this man was, given a book filled with a message of Love just for him, and he can't even access it. That is pretty commonplace here. It was such a contrast from hearing those little sweeties read their new books just hours before.
I'm not sure where I go from here. (Well, home. I go home tomorrow.) I have a lot of thoughts. There are women that would benefit so much from reading instruction. There are children, and a whole community, that would benefit from a library. I would love to come back and do story and craft time again. It's such a small thing in the face of so much poverty and illiteracy. But it's still something.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Hola from Guatemala!
Hi from Guatemala! The first thing you should know is the internet is en espanol here, so logging into my google account was moy dificil. I hope that means difficult. If not, well, there begin my troubles. ;)
I ended up going on this trip to Guatemala because I turned 30 last month and I was having a hard time facing it. I thought I wanted to do something interesting or memorable to commemorate my 30 years. But my friend Holly (who I worked on the Guatemala school sponsorship program with last year. No, I can't link my post about it or her blog. The internet is in spanish.) had mentioned once or twice that I should come to meet some of the kids. Plus I had a box of books in spanish I had been collecting, and the awesome folks at Journey church did a backpack drive for the kids. So ultimately I told Jerry all I wanted for my birthday was a ticket to Guatemala. Which means I kind of turned 30 and came to Guatemala to celebrate.
My cousin came with me and that has been fabulous! The actual traveling went off without a hitch. That was the part I was most worried about (giant, heavy luggage filled with backpacks and books). Once we got here and met up with our friends Chris and Holly, I was greatly relieved.
On the way home from the airport yesterday we stopped at a hospital to pick up a mama and her new baby. Awe, sounds so sweet. What actually happened was we pulled up to the hospital only to find out this poor 19-year-old girl who had a c-section less than 48 hours prior had basically been kicked out of the hospital because she had spent the maximum amount of time allowed (or something) and then spent 2 hours under a pavilion outside the hospital waiting for us. She had no pain medicine in her body. And then she climbed into a van. That appeared to be painful for her, I willed myself not to cry and held my breath. Then we drove over cobblestone-type roads, and crumbling paved roads, and 20-some odd speed bumps (not an exaggeration. There are 29 speed bumps to get to Chris and Holly's house, but this girl's house was towards the front of town, so there were a few less.). She did have a prescription for various medicines, which we stopped at a pharmacy to get on the way home. When we dropped her off we were still several hundred feet from her house. Our van couldn't get down the narrow road, which led to a tiny, muddy, uneven path littered with pieces of rock and brick. Which led to a little walkway between some homes with some giant, uneven, muddy steps, which led to her house. Which I'm pretty sure was at least a concrete block 2-room home with a concrete floor. That is much better than a house with cornstalk or cardboard walls and a dirt/mud floor.
This morning we got news that the baby cried all. night. long. Oy vey, it is hard having a new baby no matter you are or where you come from. It is obviously harder if your start to parenthood involves being 19 and kicked out of the hospital with your guts stapled together and not a dose of pain meds to hold you over until you get home. We visited Miriam (new mama) and Kevin (new baby) this morning. Kevin is just as precious as can be, but I remember the desperation I felt when Eli slept for 45 minutes the entire first night we were home.
The consensus is that Kevin is hungry and needs to nurse more, or they need to figure out nursing together, or something along those lines. Nothing appears to be wrong with him, he's just new, and that's hard. There is a woman here who helps nursing mamas (kind of like a lactation consultant), so she has agreed to go see Miriam and Kevin.
The very best news in all of this is that Miriam's family is supportive and helpful. Kevin's dad, Eddie, is with them along some motherly type of women. They are all trying to help, no one is leaving Miriam and Kevin alone to fend for themselves. In the midst of difficult circumstances Miriam has people who care that she can lean on a bit.
Tomorrow is going to be a big day here. We have kiddos coming for storytime and a craft. They will also get to pick a book(!!!) to take home with them. So thank you to everyone that gave me books to bring with me- they are about to find a new home in the hands of some sweet kids! I think the reading and crafting activities tomorrow will be CRAZY, but fun and also encourage reading. I'd appreciate any and all prayers for Miriam, Kevin, and the kids that are coming tomorrow! Thanks, friends!
I ended up going on this trip to Guatemala because I turned 30 last month and I was having a hard time facing it. I thought I wanted to do something interesting or memorable to commemorate my 30 years. But my friend Holly (who I worked on the Guatemala school sponsorship program with last year. No, I can't link my post about it or her blog. The internet is in spanish.) had mentioned once or twice that I should come to meet some of the kids. Plus I had a box of books in spanish I had been collecting, and the awesome folks at Journey church did a backpack drive for the kids. So ultimately I told Jerry all I wanted for my birthday was a ticket to Guatemala. Which means I kind of turned 30 and came to Guatemala to celebrate.
My cousin came with me and that has been fabulous! The actual traveling went off without a hitch. That was the part I was most worried about (giant, heavy luggage filled with backpacks and books). Once we got here and met up with our friends Chris and Holly, I was greatly relieved.
On the way home from the airport yesterday we stopped at a hospital to pick up a mama and her new baby. Awe, sounds so sweet. What actually happened was we pulled up to the hospital only to find out this poor 19-year-old girl who had a c-section less than 48 hours prior had basically been kicked out of the hospital because she had spent the maximum amount of time allowed (or something) and then spent 2 hours under a pavilion outside the hospital waiting for us. She had no pain medicine in her body. And then she climbed into a van. That appeared to be painful for her, I willed myself not to cry and held my breath. Then we drove over cobblestone-type roads, and crumbling paved roads, and 20-some odd speed bumps (not an exaggeration. There are 29 speed bumps to get to Chris and Holly's house, but this girl's house was towards the front of town, so there were a few less.). She did have a prescription for various medicines, which we stopped at a pharmacy to get on the way home. When we dropped her off we were still several hundred feet from her house. Our van couldn't get down the narrow road, which led to a tiny, muddy, uneven path littered with pieces of rock and brick. Which led to a little walkway between some homes with some giant, uneven, muddy steps, which led to her house. Which I'm pretty sure was at least a concrete block 2-room home with a concrete floor. That is much better than a house with cornstalk or cardboard walls and a dirt/mud floor.
This morning we got news that the baby cried all. night. long. Oy vey, it is hard having a new baby no matter you are or where you come from. It is obviously harder if your start to parenthood involves being 19 and kicked out of the hospital with your guts stapled together and not a dose of pain meds to hold you over until you get home. We visited Miriam (new mama) and Kevin (new baby) this morning. Kevin is just as precious as can be, but I remember the desperation I felt when Eli slept for 45 minutes the entire first night we were home.
The consensus is that Kevin is hungry and needs to nurse more, or they need to figure out nursing together, or something along those lines. Nothing appears to be wrong with him, he's just new, and that's hard. There is a woman here who helps nursing mamas (kind of like a lactation consultant), so she has agreed to go see Miriam and Kevin.
The very best news in all of this is that Miriam's family is supportive and helpful. Kevin's dad, Eddie, is with them along some motherly type of women. They are all trying to help, no one is leaving Miriam and Kevin alone to fend for themselves. In the midst of difficult circumstances Miriam has people who care that she can lean on a bit.
Tomorrow is going to be a big day here. We have kiddos coming for storytime and a craft. They will also get to pick a book(!!!) to take home with them. So thank you to everyone that gave me books to bring with me- they are about to find a new home in the hands of some sweet kids! I think the reading and crafting activities tomorrow will be CRAZY, but fun and also encourage reading. I'd appreciate any and all prayers for Miriam, Kevin, and the kids that are coming tomorrow! Thanks, friends!
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