RiversGrace

Navigating the Sacred and Mundane

Monday, September 03, 2007

Sleeping Baby



It's way past the midnight hour and I can't sleep. I just tiptoed down the hall, held the door handle and opened with silence. She's sleeping on her side, one leg pulled up, jammies askew. I'm supposed to watch for sunken eyes, cracked lips, rapid heartbeat. I don't know how to do that in the dark so I've been staring at the ceiling, repeating the mantra so that my thoughts don't wake her, wiping the tears that head for my ears.

My girl has had chronic diarrhea for four months. And all I can think is that I'm tired of restraining her every time we go to the doctor, and now, every time I change a diaper. I'm tired of holding her down as she screams and beats out eye contact through fight. And I'm tired of taking her in my arms and holding her long enough for her to remember that I am her mother, the one who is supposed to protect her.

She still has a little bruise, purple plum spot in the center fold of her arm, from a blood draw. It doesn't look right on a two year old. I changed a diaper every hour from morning til evening today, it's getting progressively worse, and aside from taking stupid phone surveys required by the advice nurse (so that she could offer generic and silly advice), I have to wait for a referral to a GI specialist. How long will that take?

Every day her tummy hurts, every day she stops playing and looks over at me to give me the unspoken que - I'm falling, Mama. And I say - I'm so sorry, River. We wait until it passes and she rejoins the current of playfulness. I never do.

I try to catch a ride on my husband's sleep tonight, reaching out for his arm. "I can't stop my mind," I whisper, wrestling with images that can haunt a mother. I want to ask him to pray because that's what he does, but he's off in another place and I can't find my place beside him. I go downstairs for cereal instead, organic raisin bran.

She's calling out, in a dream, in a story that's her own. I'm down here, in the din of a street light, holding onto this train of words like I always do when confronted with the hubris of control. Just looked out the window to find my neighbor's living room light on - someone else is awake, someone else is sitting with whatever they think they cannot bear, whatever they think they know or don't know. Comforting somehow. Daylight makes us look so together. But the night allows for all the tender questions.

11 Comments:

Blogger Carrie Wilson Link said...

Oh, God, Prema, I know that story. The cereal in the middle of the night, the sleeping husband, the child with the undiagnosed "problems." My love and prayers go out and surround you, sweet friend. It somehow seems wrong to say this is gorgeous writing, but it is.

7:40 AM  
Blogger hg said...

"Daylight makes us look so together. But the night allows for all the tender questions." - So beautiful and so true!

Love and prayers to you and River. (And hopefully some solutions from the naturopath too)

9:20 AM  
Blogger Deb Shucka said...

Holding you and your beautiful daughter in my heart and prayers. May you find peace and answers soon so that you both can sleep well. Much love.

2:26 PM  
Blogger Jerri said...

Oh, P. I am holding you and River in my heart and in my prayers.

I'm glad your neighbor's light reminded you that you're not alone. You never are, you know. Not even with the tenderest of questions.

5:59 PM  
Blogger Jerri said...

Thinking of you guys again, I came back to look at River's picture.

Have I mentioned how beautiful, how precious she is?

Absolutely darling.

4:52 AM  
Blogger Amber said...

Jerri is so right-- River is just the cutest thing! I think how pretty every time I see her here.

I would be going crazy with worry if this were one of my kids. You must be. And dealing with the doctors and the red tape...GAH! Just so much crap, and all you want-- need!-- are answers!

I am praying for you and for River. Poor baby. Please let us know how things go. I will be thinking of you both. Holdng you is Light.

OX :)

9:24 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

4 months and no one has been able to diagnose this thing?? That's insane? No wonder you're exhausted. Thinking of you and will see what I can find out and pass on that may be of help.

9:10 PM  
Blogger Kim said...

Prema, your words and emotions just cut straight to the center of my heart. I'm so sorry for all you and River are going through and send my love and prayers for comfort and wellness right around the corner. I think (and hope) a GI specialist and a naturopath will be great sources of answers.

River is the sweetest, dearest little beauty, such a lovely light. I can't wait until her tummy feels all better.

10:05 AM  
Blogger kario said...

I hope that the next time you find the tears heading for your ears you remember the light is on in each and every house in our circle. We are with you.

Love to you all.

11:03 AM  
Blogger Michelle O'Neil said...

Prema,

I've got some resources on GI issues if you want them. My e-mail has changed since the move. New one is on my profile.

Love.

5:57 AM  
Blogger Nancy said...

Catching up on reading and I know this is weeks later. It is agony waiting for answers and seeing pain in their eyes. Add me to the list of those praying for that little cherrub and for your strengh. Your words are beautiful.

5:39 AM  

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