Tonight is one of those nights where everything suddenly seems to catch up with me.
I am STILL in hospital with one damn complication after another. I was initially admitted back into hospital on Wednesday morning to give me some fluids, see if I needed a blood transfusion and it was expected I would be out in 24 hours. Instead, I started having massive spiking temperatures and it seemed that I have an infection/s and that surgery was on the cards for today (this was always a last resort for Steffi). The blood cultures came back today showing that I have a very uncommon infection that is immune to the antibiotics I was on. So now we are trying a different antibiotic which should hopefully work (and for now we are not doing surgery).
I am feeling pretty damn awful, and I really really just want to be at home with my family. I want to be able to cuddle our darling Murray, to read him stories and put him to bed, not to have to speak to him over FaceTime and not be able to answer his question as to when I am going to come home. I don’t want to be lying here listening to the woman next to me complain about all and sundry. I felt a lot of sympathy for her in the beginning and thought she must be having a really tough time – until I heard her saying that the worst part and pain was the Clexane injections she was having to take and how she had timed them and it burnt for 7 minutes. I honestly wanted to scream at her that if that was the most she had to complain about she was doing okay!!! (To put it into perspective, if you count up all the times I have had to inject with Clexane with my pregnancies, operations, traveling etc, it probably totals once a day for at least 4 years – while they can sometimes be a bit uncomfortable, it passes quickly and really isn’t that bad!). Shame I really am projecting my anger onto this lady aren’t I?
I just feel so so tired and so so sad. Tired of being challenged so much the last 2.5 years, tired of every complication that seems to arise despite my best efforts. And just so so sad for everything that we have lost, both tangible and intangible. When I came home on Tuesday morning after my miscarriage and walked up the stairs, my eyes were pulled to my 2 favorite pictures of Bella up on our wall. I was just hit again with how different life could have been if she hadn’t died, how we could have been saved all of this awful pain and heartache, which on nights like tonight just all seem too much.
And I don’t often allow myself to wallow in self-pity like this but I really do wonder what I did in a previous life to mean that I needed to be challenged/punished so much in this one? I know that life doesn’t work like this, I know that I have so so much to be grateful for, I really do. But for tonight I am just so very very sad.
So for now, I will try and cry out all my tears, and tomorrow I will wake up, put a smile on my face, and carry on. As I say so often, if for no other reason that to honour the lives that my children were so cruelly robbed of.