Friday, February 24, 2012

...and then there are those nights.

It's 2:12am, and I am alone. Robert is probably asleep in front of the tv.
I am in pain. Surgery pain, and all sorts of extra nerve pain I didn't count on. I have been waiting from one Lyrica (nerve medicine) to the next, and it isn't enough. I take 900mg a day; it is over the "doctor recommended amount", but maybe not enough for me. The nerve pain is in a strange place, down the outer side of my thigh, seemingly not connected to the surgeries, but nerves can do that.
The caveat is that this nerve pain started before the surgery. This particular feeling, this golf-ball-under-my-thigh-skin feeling, is what prompted Dr.Z to up the Lyrica. He also thought it is a good idea before the surgery anyway.

I have been feeling fluey and have lymph-node pain.
Gapey hurts, and my whole hip feels like a meat grinder must have done the surgery.
I am wondering even, because of the pain, if the mesh in Gapey is holding up still. There are all sorts of lumps and bumps that I don't know what to make of them, except that it is ME. This... is me. All that stuff I wrote about earlier today (yesterday, officially speaking) is also me.

This, though, is the middle-of-the-night, post-surgery, alone, me.

The babysitter had her last night tonight. She baked us chocolate cookies, we ordered pizza.
We knew at the start that this was her last day, she's going into the army soon. Another babysitter (who we know well, thank Gd) is starting on Sunday.
My daughter cried so hard at seeing her go. She really liked her. More than that, though, she wanted her world to stay the same, and it isn't. This is her secondary world- the babysitter world- which she has to rely on because I am out of commission. Now that is up and changing again, and she was painfully hurt and crying tonight about that. I got into bed with her and explained to her that this is all temporary. I will be back in commission. Let's not forget that-- I haven't gone anywhere too bad. I talked her tears away, thank Gd. She fell asleep in my arms. I was in *so* much pain in her bed there in a bad position, when I knew she was asleep, I tried to free my arm. She woke up foggy and said "can you read me a book?" It was really cute! I kissed her, and let her again take my arms (she, using lots of little redheaded strength!), and let her hold me hard until she fell asleep again. After a few minutes, I couldn't take the pain anymore, I needed to get myself into a decent position for my hip. She woke again, and she asked where am I going. I said just downstairs to say goodbye to [babysitter]. "I won't go anywhere... I am in pajamas, where can I go?"

One more melt down taken care of in the saga of 
"the Klein kids handle change while seeing their mother in pain".

(this next section is actually filling in for a previous post... this is what transpired before the "three wishes" conversation-on-the-pillow happened with the same child. When I wrote the previous post, I just hadn't been ready to write about the really hard stuff yet. This is the same kid, and the huge problem that had transpired about an hour before.)

Then there was the one last night from my second son which was much worse; he had overstepped some BIG rules. I was upset at him, but I stayed there the whole time until he could feel his anger dissolve. I told him I love him even though I am upset with his decision to disobey the rules. It was hard for me to stay there with his telling me to go away. "Go away, you don't love me, you just have to say that. I won't talk to you. You make the rules just to control me. I can control myself, so go away...".
I stayed.
I listened to it all, I said that I do love him.
We talked about boundaries and why they are necessary. 
(more precisely, I talked, he let me talk.)
I told him that boundaries are love,
and that Hashem gave them to us also,
Shabbat, keeping Kosher, all because He loves us.
I told him the meaning of life is love.
Rules and boundaries help us to love one another.

I broke through to him.

But it was *hard*.
I am not such great emotional shape to deal with that,
but there it was, in my face.
No choice when it is your own kid, you know?

Then comes my turn to break down from the pressure.
And the pain.

And that is what I am telling you about tonight, in the middle of an awful feeling night.
Since Robert isn't up here with me at the moment, I am going through this alone.
With the aid of a small sleeping pill, which I believe is just about ready to relieve me, Baruch Hashem.


  1. Sarah, you are an awesome mom! The explanation you gave your son about why boundaries are required is inspirational. I would NEVER have come up with that even in a well rested and feeling awesome state. I really wish I could come over there and help you for a week or two.

    It is great that you acknowledge that this time is hard for your whole family. Acknowledging that it is hard is better than any sort of denial. I sure hope things can get just that little bit better so as to be more tolerable for a while.

  2. Just the fact that you are in a difficult place suggests that there will be better times. I know it's hard but you are making progress. Rather like a pendulum, and after a while the swings are less dramatic and easier to deal with. You are handling the situation with your children exceptionally well, hang in there. Sending positive thoughts.
    Edna Oxman

  3. Chocolate is coming to make it better!

  4. You really are a great mom. I pray you have a peaceful, as pain-free as possible Shabbat.

    1. thanks, Michelle. I second your prayer with a resounding Amen!
      Shabbat Shalom to you, too!