for those who know me on FB you know that Fs Mickey button exploded. Again.
She’s still traumatized from the first time that happened. And from the last time the nurse changed (when the nurse had to push it through her abs of steel).
So my dear daughter, when I heard what happened at school on Monday I knew that it was going to be another really hard day for you.
You walked in knowing what was going to happen (it’s at these times that I wish you weren’t so smart).
I held you as you cried your heart out. Told you it was going to be ok, both of us knowing that there was a bump in the road to “ok” that you needed to face first.
I wish I could have held you until your fears disappeared. But we had 30 mins to get to the hospital and get a new mickey in place before the nurse left for the day.
So I put on my firm, tough mama voice and made you come with me. You were literally sick with anxiety. I wiped your mouth and then we had to keep moving.
We needed your cooperation: when you tense, your abs create a solid wall where it’s almost impossible to insert a new mickey into that hole in your stomach.
So we practiced at home, in the car, on the hospital table. And somehow you managed to scream and relax your abs at the same time (holey moley batman, how did you do that?)
I’m sorry I had to make you choose. Choose between admission to hospital and a potassium IV (that burns people, it burns your veins) or let us change the Mickey.
Im sorry. I hope you believed when I said I wished it could be different.
I wish that your smile on receiving the cuddly monkey toy from the nurse went all the way in, to your soul. I wish that it could heal the scar on the inside as quickly as it changed your expression.
I wish I could have held you until your fears were gone.
And I hope that one day you will understand that I was doing my best for you: making the tough decisions.
Tough love. Sometimes it sucks to be a mum.
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