It has been a very long day today that felt very disjointed. At least the carpets are clean. Our daughter is suffering a little tonight and is having trouble sleeping. Both my wife and I have been rocking her several times to sleep only to have her awake a few minutes later in obvious pain. Tomorrow, she will hopefully be back to her cheerful self.
When she was born, she was in hospital for almost two weeks with hypoglycemia and every few hours the nurses would have to come along and prick her heel to take a drop of blood. After a few days, they were struggling to find a clear spot on her tiny feet. Even though we knew she would be okay, that was a very hard time for me, worse for my wife.
The first time they took the blood, she cried. And the second. After that, she stopped. I don't know if it is because she is strong or she is now prepared for a life of pain. It is strange what goes through a father's head at a time like this. In the end though, I was doing it to her myself as when we got her home, she would still need it monitored.
She had to also have a cannula put into her head and her tiny veins would not hold it and they had to keep replacing it. She looked like she had been used as a pin cushion. For this procedure, we were asked to leave the room as it was not nice to watch. We could hear it though. For that, she cried every time.
It is coming up to a year now and parts of the pain are fading. I remember a lot though, I am not sure I will forget. Little things stand out like changing her first diaper, splashing water over her head in her first bath and stroking her forehead to get her to sleep. There is also the feeding her with a syringe through a tube and the anxiety every time they took her blood sugar levels. And the disappointment as it had fallen again.
We were the lucky ones in the intensive care ward. Some parents had been there 3 or 4 months, we were there 12 days and we knew we would all go home together in time. Others were not so fortunate to know the same. I can't imagine what that must feel like, but I tried. When I was at home by myself, while my wife was at the hospital still, I would think. I would try to prepare myself for the worst. This is not just in case of a negative outcome, it is also to remain grateful for what I have currently.
I would also think about how this may affect our daughter. I am quite sure that she will not remember it in memory but, will her body carry it with? Trauma seems to run through all parts of who we are and even though we may appear healed, remnants could remain and influence into the future. I cannot say if it will haunt her. Or, make her stronger.
I am just happy that she is with us and she smiles more than she frowns. Her expressions are starting to become very apparent. She is going to be a handful and test us at every opportunity. I am glad, and worried at the same time as the twinkle in her eyes as she considers some mischief is becoming more common. When she is curious and calculating however, there is an intensity in her eyes that I feel in my own. This worries me too, but again, I am also glad.
She is growing so fast, learning so much I sometimes feel like I treat her like an adult. We already talk a lot together about everything and she listens intently and laughs often. I wonder how long this will last. Teenage years? As much as I am comfortable being a parent, what I fear is that I will never be enough for her. I look at her every day and think how she deserves so much better.
But, here I am. There is only me to play the role of her dad, so, I better grow and fill those shoes.
Taraz
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