Recovery at Home

I'm not going to lie. This is tough.

It breaks my heart into a million pieces to see my little girl in pain. The medicine helps but not a ton. She is just not the same yet. All I kept hearing was "she will bounce back so fast you will not even know she had surgery". I don't see that yet. I see glimpses of the Quinnie I knew, little grins of fiestiness here and there, but not often enough.

As most of you know, patience has never been my virtue. I want her to be healed. I am not impatient with her at all. Not her fault. I don't know who I am impatient with but I just feel sad. And helpless. We spend most of our days just laying on the living room carpet trying to avoid Ryan bumping into her. And I throw endless amounts of balls and toys for Ryan to fetch and put "UP" (he recently learned how to say UP) - which is not exactly the greatest life for him either. I feel drained from the day when it's only 10:30am. I can only imagine how exhausted she must be.

When we were doing all of her pre-op work up stuff, it included mulitple blood draws. Well, they missed 3 times and finally got it on the 4th. By the time they got it, Q was soaked in sweat and tears, as was I. I tried to be strong for her, but I couldn't help but cry. When we were in that horrible little room, I just remember saying over and over "I would do anything to take this away from you, anything." And that still remains true today. I wish it was me laying on that gurney, going on bypass, having my chest broken open and my heart stopped. If I could go through recovery instead of her, I would. But I can't. And it breaks my heart. I would do ANYTHING for her not to hurt.

I hope that I can look back at this post in a week and be like "what were you talking about, Meagan?" You have this little girl sprinting around and she is OKAY. I pray that happens, and soon for her sake. Right now it kills me because before this surgery, she was sprinting around, running reckless and as much as she would frighten me with her fiesty spirit, it was also a mood lifter much of time.  

Now, she is super cautious. Thank God she seems to know her limits. She toddles around but mostly only in the evenings, after her pain medicine has kicked in for the day. She tries to crawl to get places but it's almost like she has forgotten how to crawl (it's been 4 months since she truly crawled anywhere - she was a walker as soon as she figured out she actually could walk). She doesn't pull up on much of my furniture, she's not yet yanking every toy out of her baskets, she's not climbing on the couch and driving me crazy - what I wouldn't give for her to drive me crazy.

So for now, we cling to each other as I pray for a speedy, speedy recovery. I know I may be asking too much --- we ultimately had a successful heart repair that will allow her to live a full life. And prayerfully she will not remember any of this. I pray to God that's true.

I feel like I am putting it all out there writing this post. There have been a few comments/emails//texts from our wonderful support group talking about our strength. Let's be clear - we have NOT been strong. Quinn has been the strong one. She is the one that has given us inspiration. Where most adults would still be bed-ridden after open heart surgery 6 days later, she came home. And where we have failed in our strength, God has to have carried us the rest of the way --- I have no other way to explain it.

"Mommy-adrenaline" though, is wearing out. I think Daddy's is too. We are all just tired. Every emotion we had was put into those 6 days and now her recovery, and our energy supply is depleting. And if mine is depleting, how does Quinn feel? Sweet, sweet girl. Please God, bring our little girl back to health soon. Let this be just a blip, a tiny moment of the rest of her life.

We continue to rest in you.