This morning while Steve and I got ready to go the the hospital M, J and D played with the baby balloons my Mom got them. They told me they are trying to keep them nice so when C comes home he can see them too. I told them I thought that was a great idea.
I am really struggling. When we got to C's bedside I found him dressed in an outfit. His first one. That I did not get to choose or put on him. His finger nails have also been clipped. The logical side of me understands what the nurses are doing. They are caring for him, but as his mother I want to clip his nails and get him dressed and ooh and ahh over my little man. I am feeling less and less like a mother and more like a visitor.
I told the nurse I would like to help with things like bathing and "cares" in the future. I fight against the pain to stand at his bedside while she showed me how to do his cares (taking his temperature, measuring his girth, and switching his oxygen monitor to the opposite foot) and then she let Steve and I help with a bath. C loved getting his hair washed with dry shampoo.
With my other three babies I have loved snuggling with them after they are all clean, but by the time C was all clean it was time to get home to M, J, and D. Steve and I could only hold him for a few minutes. I cried hot, silent tears as I handed my baby to the nurse and slowly walked out the door. Steve put his arm around me and helped me to the car. He tried to chat and keep things light. He talked about how he loves to hike and had me take a picture of one of his favorite mountains.
But I can smell the lingering scent of the shampoo on my hands. I am in a dark place and silent.
I am really struggling. When we got to C's bedside I found him dressed in an outfit. His first one. That I did not get to choose or put on him. His finger nails have also been clipped. The logical side of me understands what the nurses are doing. They are caring for him, but as his mother I want to clip his nails and get him dressed and ooh and ahh over my little man. I am feeling less and less like a mother and more like a visitor.
I told the nurse I would like to help with things like bathing and "cares" in the future. I fight against the pain to stand at his bedside while she showed me how to do his cares (taking his temperature, measuring his girth, and switching his oxygen monitor to the opposite foot) and then she let Steve and I help with a bath. C loved getting his hair washed with dry shampoo.
With my other three babies I have loved snuggling with them after they are all clean, but by the time C was all clean it was time to get home to M, J, and D. Steve and I could only hold him for a few minutes. I cried hot, silent tears as I handed my baby to the nurse and slowly walked out the door. Steve put his arm around me and helped me to the car. He tried to chat and keep things light. He talked about how he loves to hike and had me take a picture of one of his favorite mountains.
But I can smell the lingering scent of the shampoo on my hands. I am in a dark place and silent.
Comments
Post a Comment