But I'll start with the news.
Being Bennett's mom is hard. Having him spend 2 months in the NICU was really hard. Learning to manage his medical equipment and fight insurance and home health care companies and pharmacies to get him what he needs, is hard. Watching other kids his age or younger surpass him in pretty much everything is hard. Taking him to doctors, hospitals and therapies is hard. Trying not to get discouraged when he's made seemingly no progress in months is hard. Seeing families out doing fun things together, or even going to church together is really hard. Bennett has to pretty much stay home, all the time.
Bennett has been continually sick since we brought home from the hospital. Colds, pink eye, etc. On Thanksgiving, we took him to the ER and discovered he had pneumonia. Pneumonia is a secondary infection. It was caused by a cold. So don't ever say "It's just a cold!" Colds are really serious to us. The pneumonia caused his right lung, his small lung, to have a pocket of collapse. Obviously, that's a very scary thing. We got medicine, and I thought it was getting better.
We saw the pulmonologist last week, and she was worried about his respiratory state, so we went and got another x-ray (he's had many...). We got a call shortly after and she said she got the results of the x-ray. Bennett now has a pocket of collapse in the other lung, his good lung. The pneumonia is not getting better, it's getting worse. The doctor fears if it keeps getting worse, he will need to be on a ventilator. And i thought having him on oxygen is hard! Every 4 hours, I have to pound Bennett's back to loosen the mucus that is causing his lungs to collapse. Also, now, not only do we need to keep Bennett home, but we need to keep Nolan away too. I cried and cried. I have already given up so much and now I have to give up more. My 3-year-old is being punished for having a sick brother. He asks me to go to storytime, his friends' house, church. And I have to tell him we can't go for a little while . We have to stay home.
Some people would think, "I would love to stay home for a while!" I do love being home. But not all the time. I need people.
I'm the kind of mom that loves to be involved. I love taking Nolan to story time, make and take craft times, playgroups, joy school, community classes, etc. Nolan loves them too.
I know it won't always be this way. But it doesn't take away the pain I wake up with every day.
I am praying all the time. But at this point, I realize God is not going to make Bennett better right now. But I just want him to give me comfort. To give me strength. To help me not cry at the doctor's office or in front of Nolan. To help me not resent God for all of this.
I have learned to be grateful for the little things that mean so much. The ward brought the sacrament over since we have to stay away from church. They invited Josh to a game night. Friends have stopped by (only if they're healthy!). My sisters have continually tried to support me, cheer me up, uplift me.
I am grateful for the moments I see light in this dark place. I am grateful for the people put in my life specifically to help me through this.
Spring will come, both metaphorically, and literally!
But until then, I cling to this truth:
"And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up." (D&C 84:88).
My favorite scripture that goes along with this is Mosiah 24:10-15
ReplyDeleteI take such comfort that the Lord heard their prayers but he did not remove the burdens from their backs! Instead he gave them strength and comfort to beat up their burdens with ease. I love you, you are strong! And it's okay to cry
When Avie was 11 months old, she and Betsy both got really bad pneumonia. We took them to Primary Children's Hospital, thinking we would only admit Avie, but they took both of the girls. Avie was taken to the pediatric ICU and immediately put on a ventilator with the medically induced coma, where she stayed for 6 days. Four days in, I received a phone call informing me that a very contagious disease had been in the room where she had been initially evaluated. They were afraid that she would catch this infection simultaneously. Those were were grueling, hard days. And all told, I only had 10 of them.
ReplyDeleteEvery step of your journey with Bennett is unique and your own. I share my story by way of letting you know that you are not entirely alone.
I remember one day while I was there, getting in an elevator and having to push the button for the second floor, which out course was the pediatric ICU. I cried as I pushed it, feeling heartbroken that Avie was in so severe of a situation. The man in the elevator with me gently reminded me that at least I wasn't going to the third floor, where the pediatric cancer cases were.
I don't know that any good really comes from comparing trials or struggles, and I don't really think there's a way we could do that even if we wanted to. But I do think that it can be easy to forget in the midst of our trials that we are not alone in having some. And perhaps even in acnowledging that there are situations less desirable than ours.
I know this experience is one that you, Bennett, Josh, and Nolan are being allowed to have by a caring Father and Mother who both love you. The Lord can truly make the most bitter of experiences become the ones that purify and expand us the most.
When Avie was 11 months old, she and Betsy both got really bad pneumonia. We took them to Primary Children's Hospital, thinking we would only admit Avie, but they took both of the girls. Avie was taken to the pediatric ICU and immediately put on a ventilator with the medically induced coma, where she stayed for 6 days. Four days in, I received a phone call informing me that a very contagious disease had been in the room where she had been initially evaluated. They were afraid that she would catch this infection simultaneously. Those were were grueling, hard days. And all told, I only had 10 of them.
ReplyDeleteEvery step of your journey with Bennett is unique and your own. I share my story by way of letting you know that you are not entirely alone.
I remember one day while I was there, getting in an elevator and having to push the button for the second floor, which out course was the pediatric ICU. I cried as I pushed it, feeling heartbroken that Avie was in so severe of a situation. The man in the elevator with me gently reminded me that at least I wasn't going to the third floor, where the pediatric cancer cases were.
I don't know that any good really comes from comparing trials or struggles, and I don't really think there's a way we could do that even if we wanted to. But I do think that it can be easy to forget in the midst of our trials that we are not alone in having some. And perhaps even in acnowledging that there are situations less desirable than ours.
I know this experience is one that you, Bennett, Josh, and Nolan are being allowed to have by a caring Father and Mother who both love you. The Lord can truly make the most bitter of experiences become the ones that purify and expand us the most.