Mommin' ain't easy

Well. The craziness of this past week has just delayed the part we knew was coming: watching Emily for signs of heart fatigue and gauging when she may need the initial surgery. She is nursing for about 10 minutes at a time but then gets pretty tuckered out. Our main goal is to get her feeding and gaining weight. We may need to start her on some meds to ease the strain on her heart, but the doctors want to watch her a bit before jumping into that decision. The next step after medication would be clamping off her pulmonary vein to slow the flow of blood to her lungs, easing the strain on her heart.

As much as I want to just fully nurse Emily, the cardiologist reminded me this morning that it's unrealistic to expect that. I knew a few months ago it was very likely Emily would need a combination of nursing with taking bottles of my milk, but fortified, to give her a caloric boost and to ease her fatigue. Bottle feeding is less work for babies. I loved nursing Oliver and nursing Emily has brought me out of a dark place, so this is hard. It's one of those times as a parent where you're trying to set aside what you want so badly for your child to see what it is they actually need. The practical side of me is whispering: so she'll take a few bottles of your milk a day. Big deal...

I cannot put into words how much I miss Oliver. Last night I had an awful dream where I kept losing him in a crowd. Ugh. I know he's in good hands, having the time of his life with Grandpa Wes. Those two are a riot together. I want to take care of Oliver and Emily at the same time, but it's not possible right now, and nothing explains being separated from your child and it's out of your control.

Clearly the theme of today's post is mom guilt. Sheesh.

Oh - we're in a boarding room with Emily! Easily the happiest day since we've been here. Last night I fell asleep watching her in her bassinet and so much felt right. Being near my girl and being able to hold her is easing the stress of all this. Jared said the scariest part of last week was watching me slip into a dark depression. I know what he's talking about. Nothing alleviated my desire to hold her, to see her open her eyes, to hear her cry, to listen to those cute newborn sounds.

No, mommin' ain't easy. And all the women in Cub Foods at 9pm for the third time in a week, or those staring at a pregnancy test wondering why it's so hard to just get two blue lines, or those browsing Pinterest feeling like a failure because their kid had chicken nuggets for dinner instead of this gluten-free-tofurkey-keto-something-or-other meal they just pinned but know they will never ever make, raised their hands in agreement and shouted, "amen, sister!"