WARNING: The following post will contain
some a lot of complaining. Yes, I know how blessed I am. Yes, I know how strong you think I am. Yes, I know I've survived days that I thought would kill me BUT I'm going to complain anyway. I think I deserve that. If you don't think I do then please ignore this post. And please be kind for I am only human! And if you can't be kind then just blame my friend Lara because she told me to go ahead and post even if it was complaining. In fact her exact words were "Its your blog, go for it". But be kind to her too, for I love her! =)
Ive been given a lot of numbers in my life. The first time I remember was 816-3614. That was my phone number when I lived in Tonganoxie. Then there was the number 9. That was how old I was when we moved from Tonganoxie. Then I remember 12. That's how old I was when I was sent to live with my Grandmother (the BEST SUMMER EVER!). I also remember the number 1991, when I met my future husband and 1994 when we graduated High School and moved out on our own (yes, on the same day).
I never really thought much about numbers until Landon was born though. The first number I remember was 47, his pulse ox reading when we got to ther ER. Then there was 80 which was how much of a chance he had of surviving his open heart surgery. At the time it seemed like a HUGE number. 80 out of 100, that seems like pretty good odds. But then there was 1, as in 1 day at a time on ECMO. Then there was 50. That's how much of a chance he had of coming off of ECMO. Then there was 0 and that was how much of a chance he would have to survive the day. Tell me, how did we go from 80 to 0? Anyway...
Now, here is the kicker...this week we heard the number 39. Last month we heard 6 but now we hear 39. 39, that is how many foods we found out our youngest is allergic to. And I thought 80 was big. Oh no! I'm not going to spend this whole time listing the foods he is allergic to but I will tell you this, if it has any type of corn, gluten, milk, peanut, pork, fish or rice in it then he can't eat it.
Now to the complaining...
Im really upset about this number. What is my poor baby going to eat? How is he going to celebrate his birthday at school? How is he going to swallow 8 different suppliments a day? WHY DOES HE HAVE TO SUFFER SO MUCH! And, as for me, how am I going to cook for him? How am I going to do anything else if I have to cook 3 meals a day from scratch each and every day? How am I suppose to sit back and watch another one of my babies suffer, again?! And, while Im at it, why didn't anyone believe me that he had food allergies when he was 19 months old and stopped nursing and his tummy troubles began? Did I not tell the doctors SEVERAL times that I thought he had food allergies. Duh!!!
Many people have said how tough i am. "You are so strong" I hear them say often. But, seriously, thats a really nice compliment but I am not. I've had Liams list and rotation diet and research in my hands for 5 days now but haven't been able to muster up the stregth to look at it. I know the list but I have no idea what else to do with it. I know its going to be hard and IM SICK OF EVERYTHING BEING HARD!
As hard as this is to admit, and as selfist as this may make me sound, I must say that I have done my time. The universe is trying to teach me something, I know, but Im tired of learning. Im tired of bad things happening to me, Im tired of them happening to my kids! *Deep Breath*
So, I'll leave you with a few numbers now that I have finished my little bitch session. 80 - that is how much of a chance there is of me always being pissed about this. 0 - that is how much of a chance there is of me not continuing to fight for what I know. 2 - that is how old my precious little guy is who cried for 15 minutes today because he wanted peanut butter on a spoon. 100 - that is how much of a chance I have of surviving this. And 0 is the percentage of a chance that I am going to be happy about it!
And thats all I have to say about that!