My "Cleftie"

Chapter 5: Bad Places

A/N I apologize for not updating in a long time. This story is very hard to tell for me. I get very emotional and since I don't write at home I have to hold my emotions in tighter. It honestly puts that hard lump in my throat reliving these days. I know its not that bad but the emotions are very intense even if I don't write them out they are most definitely there. This is definitely going to be shorter then I thought, Probably only a few more chapters since she is only 3 and things definitely slowed down after her palate surgery. Oh well on with the story. As usual it's unedited. Sorry for any mistakes.  

Andrea

Evalyn was not an easy baby. Not because of her cleft and feeding issues but because she was very needy. Shauna never wanted to be held or snuggled, not even as a baby. She would only let me hold her long enough to give feed her the bottle then she would want to be let down to wander. Evalyn on the other hand would cry for hours if we let her. She wanted to be near me at all times, she had to see or feel me or she would cry and whine. Evalyn was so tiny and underweight that we had to do anything we could to prevent her from crying too much or over work herself which would burn calories. The first night after surgery Evalyn was noticeably happier but she would not eat much. We tired feeding her different ways making sure not to agitate her stitches. We tried feeding her more often to make sure that she got enough liquids, but it seemed Evalyn just wasn’t getting enough despite our efforts. I called Dr. J to let her know that no matter what we tried she was not eating well and I was worried about dehydration. Dr. J told us to take her to the children’s hospital if she didn’t improve or had less wet diapers. About 6 p.m. the day after surgery we took Evalyn to the E.R. because she was so weak and showing signs of dehydration. We waited 6 hours before getting a room after it being determined that she was dehydrating. I have never seen an emergency room SO FULL. There were so many kids needing attention that night. There are 3 good sized waiting rooms and those were full to capacity. The halls were lined with people waiting. If I hadn’t known better you would have thought it you were in a set for the beginning of a Zombie movie where everyone is infected and seeking attention.

Once we finally got into a room we knew that Evalyn would need an IV but I just couldn’t see it being done. I don’t like needles and always look away when getting blood taken or an IV, but I had to hold Evalyn down and watch to make sure that the needle was in. They poked her 5 times and still could not get it in. They called other nurses and no one was able to. I was so upset at seeing my baby crying and being poked that I was going to demand that they forget it, when finally a nurse walked in and said “I'll do it, everyone else out!” My husband looked at me like “Who is this and why is she bossing everyone around?” I just shrugged and watched as she prepped her stuff and said “I know you are tired and poor baby has been poked too many times. I know you probably want to punch someone and I admire ya’lls patience, but I am going to poke her one last time and I WILL get it.” I don’t think I have ever been so intimidated before. This nurse was a small Hispanic woman who was in her fifties at least, and barely came up to my shoulders. I am 5 ft even so she was short! I stepped up to Evalyn, apologized to her for her pain and kissed her. By the time I was done the nurse had the needle in her hand and was already hooking up the IV. I swear if my husband wasn’t so intimidated and shocked he probably would have kissed her in appreciation.

We spent another 4 hours in that room waiting for a different room to be cleaned since she had been admitted for 2 days to get her back to good health. Those 2 days I napped on and off but I couldn’t sleep well. I would spend hours staring at her and fighting my emotions. I think I finally allowed myself a few hours to process everything and I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings and stress. I wanted to cry it all out but I had no tears. I wanted to scream and break something but my body was a pile of heavy mush. I just stared and spaced out. I think I may have just pushed it all into a box and left it there. I never really did deal with it all. Maybe one day I will, maybe I won’t but I do know that it is too much for a one day crying spree or a throwing a nasty tantrum to get out.