Archive for May 2010
It’s coming.

The girl has been fragile.
Her port site has been tender and the pump has been beeping intermittently at us.
Warning us, maybe.
The antibiotics that she has pumped into her have minimal side effects
but I’m wondering if she is anaemic again
and if it’s the medicine that’s causing it.
She has been tired and pale and grumpy,
so grumpy.
It could be that she is just sick of the whole carrying around an extra two kilos worth of pump and fluids, the constant needling of her port and general poking and proding
but something tells me it’s not that.
Yesterday, we went to see the paed.
It was before Ivy’s re accessing of her port.
He looked in her ears and declared them clear.
He asked if she’d been well
and then he told me
that they had their first confirmed case of flu in the paediatric wards
and that it was a bad one
and that I should keep Ivy away from everyone and away from the hospital.
“Winter is coming”, he stated ominously.
There is nothing more terrifying to a mother of an immune deficient child, hearing that Winter is going to be bad.
Now, I understand all about isolating your child from the world – been there, done that.
I also know it doesn’t work unless I can isolate everyone else in the family too.
Kids go to school, husbands to work, people get sick
and there are no promises that Ivy will stay well.
Never any guarantees.
I guess it is unfortunate that she was born into a family of such large proportion.
The other thing is;
how can I deny her a life?
How can I not allow her to be part of society?
She needs to get out and make friends, she needs to interact.
She needs activities and play dates and time to just be a child.
I can’t lock her away from ballet
I can’t put her preschool days on hold.
Also: the whole stay away from the hospital thing?
Impossible,
when you have to go there for appointments and medication two or more times a week.
Life keeps moving
but it’s coming
Winter, my most hated of the seasons
is coming.
So, the antibiotics were to continue in a one week off, two weeks on cycle
and although, I feel as though that is ultimately not going to be worthwhile for Ivy’s health (or lack there of),
I agree that it has been lovely not to have been in the hospital for all of April and now half of May and that it’s definitely the antibiotics preventing that.
The spanner in the works
is that Ivy’s port site is becoming traumatised again
and the nurses and the infectious diseases doctor believe that it needs a good break
and if we keep pushing it
it will end up no good to us at all.
Let me tell you, if you want to put a mother of an immune deficient child in a quandary then offer up this scenario.
The paed says she needs the antibiotics.
The Out and About team feel she needs a substantial break from them, in order to give her body time to rest and heal the access point.
The access was fine, yesterday
however, it was very hard to flush and it was only after fluid was pushed through the port at a high rate, was it deemed okay.
Today I have flushed the darn thing twice because the pump has been bleeping and pinging its cry that all is not right with its world.
I’m loathe to pull out the needle and try to re access her, unless I absolutely have to
but something tells me, I will have to before the week is through
and something tells me that the nurses are right
the port will need to be rested
but Winter is coming,
with all of its nasty bugs and unrelenting sickness,
it’s coming
and I’m not ready.
Motherhood.

Motherhood is this:

It’s smeared mirrors
and no personal space.
It’s uncentred
and messy.
It’s juggling too many balls at once and hoping you can catch them all
should you slip.
It’s loving your babies without losing yourself.
Motherhood is this:
It’s always having someone who loves you enough to share his toys.
It’s warm arms around you
and a hand to hold.
It’s knowing that even when you make the biggest mistakes
your best creation,
the very best of yourself
is right in front of you,
staring at you with blue eyes, identical to your own
letting you know that no matter what,
you are important.
The theme at I heart faces this week is celebrating mum.
So you want to be a (preschool) photographer?
Whoever said your own kids are the hardest to take photos of,
have either
never met my kids
or they’ve never tried to take photos of twenty little cherubs on play equipment.
I love that Ivy and Noah’s preschool teachers have such faith in me
but after today, I am sure I am not a preschool photographer.
Twenty children on play equipment : impossible
even after a packet of Tim Tams and a good lie down in a very dark room.
Preschool photographer : FAIL.
My confidence has taken a severe beating today.
Give me my own kids any day.

Tiny Dancer.

She never gives in.
She’s had a trial off the antibiotics
but five days later
her little body was so sick.
So now she’s been re – accessed, IV antibiotics are infusing once more
and even though she’s still not feeling great
and is a little bruised where a brother and a painting easel fell on her from a great height, (ugh, don’t ask)
she makes the most of each day.
My tiny dancer.
She’s anything but small.













