After surgery, and being in the hospital for 9 days, we are still getting Mackenzie (and us) back on schedule, and it is overwhelming to think that we just did that. We just spent 9 days in the hospital with a little girl who had MAJOR surgery. After being home for a few days, and thinking back on our time there, here are my thoughts:
*Hospitals are not clean. (And you smell funny after being there for a day)
*We are much more capable of doing hard things than we ever believed.
*It is physically painful to watch your child get stuck with needles repeatedly.
*Refusing to let lab people take any more blood from your child can give an amazing sense of power. One I might like to repeat.
*There should be better ways to take blood.
*I have never felt so helpless as I did when our language barrier made it impossible to reassure my daughter that she was coming home with me.
*It is heartbreaking to watch your child have tubes pulled out of their chest, while they are breathless from the pain, and then to watch them tell the doctors “thank you”, and clap for themselves (there was not a dry eye in the room)
*It is possible to feel such an amazing sense of pride in a child who undergoes trauma and pain, but still smiles, laughs, and waves at people who just hurt her, and will probably hurt her again soon.
*A children’s hospital should have thermometers that go in the baby’s ears, and not under their tongue.
*ALL medications are hard on a two year old’s system.
*Two year olds should NOT be on diuretics. It is not pretty.
*I hope we never see blue lips and fingers ever again. Pink is my favorite color.
*A two year old with a heart problem cannot cry for very long, but a two year old with a repaired heart can go on and on and on.
*An asian child with two white parents draws a LOT. of. attention.
*Most nurses could not believe we would adopt this child KNOWING that she had this heart condition. They said she was so lucky. We got talked about and praised. A lot.
*Being constantly put on a pedestal and praised can make you want to polish up your halo, and step up to the pedestal, but one look into my daughter’s eyes, her little hand on my cheek, reminds me that I, not her, am the lucky one.
*We did not adopt our daughter because we are good people, we adopted her because we wanted a daughter, we wanted to be parents.
*I wonder what my two year old will be when she grows up. I am glad she will grow up.