: What? She’s still not done with this thing yet? No, no I am not. It’s consuming me at the moment and it’s all I have to offer. Next week I’m sure there will be something a little more interesting. It better be anyway! I wasn’t going to keep writing about it, but then I keep getting emails from Mothers about to go through this operation saying how valuable the information is, so it’s like community service and therapy all rolled into one.
: Time seems to be in slow motion at the moment. Taking it hour by hour for over 5 days will seem like that. I can’t help but remember when I was first home with Daisy as newborn and I was trying to find my feet with feeding and sleeping and settling and mastitis and crazy hormones. Hour by hour, in 4 hourly cycles, except that having a newborn was a shitload cuter and nicer than this is.
: Harper is still in huge amounts of pain. Each and every hour she cries about her pain and gets about 20 minutes and sometimes if we are lucky 1 hour of relief where she will be OK and normal even. Except she is so not normal. She doesn’t talk. She is so quiet.
: I manage to beat myself up approximately every 2.4 minutes. I know that this is just a standard procedure but I tell you it’s been the most stressful part of parenting I’ve been through. I also manage to get disappointed that some kids have bounced back so well and all those lovely emails from so many people telling me it would be OK and she would be great and well, she’s not. See? Beating myself up. This drives my husband crazy, and me to tears. It’s unproductive and ridiculous and yet? I’ll keep doing it. I am a flawed person that’s for sure. See what I did there? See? I am unable to stop.
: The night times have been the worst. THE WORST. And I thought the night times were pretty bad. I had no idea. These win times a gazillion. She is unable to sleep, so we are awake all night every 30 to 40 minutes trying to settle her and then inevitably giving her medicine again as another 4 hours is up. These have been my biggest stress and I feel physically sick until relief comes when I see the sun. That’s done. It’s over. We are closer to the end.
: Painstop (for us) is the work of the devil. The codeine in it makes Harper act like a crazed, manic junkie. And that look is no good for anyone, let alone an adorable 2 year old. Firstly the doses are ridiculously large. 7 mls is a lot of mls for someone who will NOT open her mouth. Then I have to mix with lemonade or juice to make it taste better? I don’t think so Painstop you mother fucker. Then the taste? Tutti Frutti? You are an insult to all taste buds ever. Why not just make the thing extra strong 2 mls of yuk that can be whacked down in no time? The night time is better, but just slightly. A better taste (of course I tried it) and just 4 mls. Only thing was it made her manic and awake for hours scratching at imaginary things on her skin and generally being off her face. Needless to say, we aren’t using Painstop and only have panadol to use instead. I guess that’s why this has been so miserable for everyone – less relief = more pain = more misery = prolonged fuckedupness of the situation.
: Endless Wiggles and Peppa Pig have helped enormously. I have spent more money on Itunes in the last 5 days then I have ever. She takes my phone and watched you tube for hours and hours. It’s small and makes her feel like she can control something. Stickers and tattoos and lollies and juice have also been good. She won’t even eat ice blocks which I thought would have been a hit. Nothing ever goes to plan does it?
: The smell that is coming out of her mouth at the moment is vile. I was not prepared for this smell of dead rat coming from the mouth of my baby. Apparently it goes away with she will apparently get better in a few days time. It better.
: The Doctors tell you that she will get better (hello Monday you MOFO) and then get worst, every minute since then and just when you think it can’t go on, it gets better. I knew this. I talked myself through this, focused on it and tried to suck it up, but when she got worse? And then worse? I couldn’t help but have my arse kicked by it. See point above about beating myself up. Like I had something to do with it, somehow I had done this. I am mental. Loving and worried and mental. Perhaps just a Mum.
: It has been all hands on deck here. Thank goodness that Daisy is at School and that I am lucky enough to have a husband working just out the back. The middle of the day has been OK but afternoons until morning are pretty revolting so I’m glad that I have had Rob around who has been amazing. Daisy has rolled her eyes more times than I care to admit but the promise of some special things just for her as soon as this is done has done the trick. And why yes, I did pay her $2 to sit and watch a Wiggles DVD with Harper because Harper only wanted Daisy to hold her hand and it was the only way I could get her to have her medicine. I thought I got out of it pretty lightly.
: The secretary’s that work for specialists are hard core bitches. I wonder if it’s somehow part of the interview process? Refusing any contact to the main man or woman and providing no comfort to frazzled mothers. Telling me she will bounce back in no time and that I’m lucky she is so young doesn’t really help my question about her being cray cray on the codeine.
: The mantra of “whatever it takes” is a good one to have. If the only thing she has eaten has been snakes & yoghurt since Friday then that’s OK. If I keep shovelling bad food down my throat to stop the pain and stress, then that’s OK. If I have to bribe Daisy will all sorts of ridiculous stuff to get her to stay away from us and stop being a little brat, that’s OK. This is a period of non normal time where anything goes.
Um. That’s it. For the moment. I know there will be more, but that’s what I’ve got right now. As soon as I got up, cried, said to Rob for the 20 millionth time “I can’t keep doing this” I had to get on here and get this out. Blogging will always be my therapy and right now I can use all the therapy I can get. And then once this is done, wine, there will not be enough wine in the world for Rob and I. A toast to recovery?To recovery being closer! RECOVERY!!