By Nici Holt Cline
The other night I was stirring corn into risotto and realized Ruby had been asleep for several hours. What if she is dead?, I wondered as my wooden spoon moved the creamy rice. I have these thoughts several times an hour. I hold my breath and brush the side of her cheek, exhaling when I see a palm stretch open of her little chest swell with air. She’s alive.
I am still unwinding from the trauma of Ruby’s sickness and hospitalization. I knew it would be this way. I came home with a healthy three week-old baby and instantly the pain, stress and fear went somewhere over there. The change in my brain and heart was abrupt. I think my body’s ability to flip that switch was a blessing because until I walked in my house and exhaled the previous 12 days of terror, I wasn’t certain I could be much more than a faint outline of my previous self. But, upon exiting the hospital and entering my life, I felt a surge of hope that, some day pretty soon, I’d be back. And maybe even better, stronger, more vivid.
We’ve been home for five weeks and, until last week, we had Ruby on a monitor at night because of an irregular heart rhythm that was detected in the hospital. Her virus is gone and we now think about this worrisome but probably benign rhythm called ventricular tachycardia. Our doctors have consulted with doctors in Seattle and read scholarly studies about ‘v tach’ in infants. Fatal in adults…most likely nothing…worrisome but probably benign.
Anyway, that effing monitor. I just hated sticking leads on Ruby and negotiating wires when feeding her at night. And the shrill, penetrating alarm yanking Andy and I out of sleep several times. All false alarms, leaving our trembling bodies sleepless for most of the night. No fair. We’d already been through so much. It felt like we were never going to be over it, this little machine a constant reminder that my girl almost died and was still weak. Something could still be wrong.
My paranoia and obsessive thoughts about mortality don’t stop at Ruby. I wonder about Margot’s death too. The thoughts run deep. They hang on. I worry the wound won’t scar but just remain open forever. I can’t imagine my girls in fourth grade or high school…I won’t let myself buy them clothes in bigger sizes. I just can’t shake the concept that they might not be around in one year or ten.
I am ready for my own monitors and alarms to chill out a bit. I know they need to, that this preoccupation is unhealthy and the associated guilt just sucks. I feel embarrassed and a little nuts. But how? When will I just be a normal, worried mom instead of a crazy, dwelling mom? It’s wild, I actually have to think hard to really remember the hospital. I don’t think it’s what happened there that haunts me…it’s what almost happened. And I don’t know how to cope with that.
As Ruby gets sturdier, I feel myself relaxing, settling in, looking forward. I hope this relaxing in my shoulders indicates a soon-to-come relaxing of my psyche. At eight weeks old, Ruby is gaining confidence and comfort. She smiles and weighs almost nine pounds. She is wise and funny and we’ve found a comfortable cadence as a family of four. Margot loves her heaps. In fact, I am envious of Margot’s ability to be so present; she doesn’t dwell on the past or anticipate the future. She throws her arms wildly, with great enthusiasm when she wants something. And she throws her arms around me, with all the love any person could ever need when she has what she wants. I never knew I’d learn so much from my children. Ruby has moved on (all we know is now) and I’m following her lead.
Nici Holt Cline is a fourth generation Montanan working on raising a fifth. You can read “Mama Digs” every Monday exclusively at www.mamalode.com. Nici also writes regularly at dig this chick, a blog about gardening with Montana, growing with two wondrous kids, cooking with impulsive whimsy, sewing with naive courage and some other important observations.
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Excellent article, Nici. It is amazing to me how in the “present” kids are. I have learned so much from my own children and their ability to move on; not dwell; not forecast. The great irony of life…children think we are smart and we aren’t, and we (society) don’t give children and their wisdom the credit they deserve. They are our best teachers:)
It is truly amazing what we learn everyday from our children. They remind us to live in the moment and to dwell on the past or future. As a mom it is hard not to worry about your child’s mortality, I’m so glad to hear that Ruby is thriving and moving forward and that you are too!
I am still learning from my children…which is a good thing! I am not sure if we as mothers ever get over the fear of loosing a child. I think it is because we love them so much and the thought of loosing the most important beings in your life in incomprehensible. I remember getting out of bed, too many times to count, checking on you and your brother. This continued until you went away to college….so don’t think you have a problem. Not unless being a super caring, want to do right for your kids, loving mother is a problem…I think not!
xo
xo
You aren’t crazy, Nici. It takes time to heal from trauma and for your body to remember how to not be ‘hyped up’. Then you’ll think you’ve moved past it, and your kid will sound croupy one night, and your heart will pound out of your chest in panic. I think we need to get together for that beer!
Last July (2009) our then-4 1/2 year old was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. We took the life flight to MSLA and week at Community as a shock to our somewhat-broaching-normal lifestyle. He and his then-2 1/2 year old sister are reaching those ages of less-dependance. For some weird reason, I rid the house of ‘baby things’ as quickly as the kids outgrow them. I now realize that I should have saved the monitor. I sleep more lightly now than when they were infants. I’d had a bit of practice however. Their Dad is also type 1, and during our years together PK (pre kids), we’d experienced several ‘episodes’ in the middle of the night where, had I not been there, I’m not sure what the outcome may have been. I’m haunted too…my husband (who’s the stay-at-home while I’m the bacon-bringer) AND our now-5 year old. I don’t think I’ll ever know sleep again the way I new it 5 years ago or 14 years ago when my husband and I met.
Good day I loved your post. I feel that it is necessary when talking about diabetes to at least refer to natural remedies that have been proven to be effective in controlling high blood glucose. Several natural herbs can be including in a diabetics regimen that may help keep a healthy sugar level.