I can tell from StatCounter (don’t act like you’ve never stalked your metrics) that many of you have been coming back to see if I’ve finally gotten around to posting Part III of my series on emotional/mental infertility and how it affects the Adoption, Loss, and Infertility (ALI) community (here are Part I and Part II).
Well. This week has been nothing short of one catastrophe after the other. It actually started on the weekend. On Saturday, Kyra fell flat on her back from the very top of a jungle gym at the playground. On Sunday evening, Jordan and TJ were playing around, and Teej accidentally gave Jordan a black eye. These two details are relevant.
Monday was a special day, but it was painfully bittersweet and my heart hurt like hell. I woke up in a sad-with-a-touch-of-pissy mood.
The same morning, we got the news that Frank’s paternal grandfather had just passed away. Monday deserved to get its ass kicked. I’m pretty sure that my face was set into a semi-permanent side eye.
Then on Tuesday I got a call home from the school nurse (Nurse Frank – “Frank” as in that’s his first name and I love the fact that the kids’ school nurse is a Black male with a voice like Barry White’s) called to let me know that Jordan’s eye was bothering him. As I was in class, I had my sister run some Tylenol over and to sign Jordan out if he felt like he needed to come home. He decided to stay (“I was going to miss the math lesson I really wanted to know about, Mom!”). I hope he keeps that academic hunger. By the time I got to third grade, when it came to math I was like
On Wednesday (that was only yesterday, right? Shit, this has been a long week already), Jaiden had a full-on head collision with an opponent at his soccer game. I looked down for a quick moment to read a text. A split second later I heard the crowd collectively exclaim, “OOOOOOOOH!” in the way that sports crowds do when someone is down for the count. I looked up and saw two players faceplanted on the field. The one that didn’t get up after a few seconds was Jaiden.
I had a mediocre Monday and a craptastic Tuesday. As I was running top-speed across the field, I thought to myself, “Really, Wednesday? Bitch, please.”
I had up four.
We were hustled off to the hospital for a stat CT scan. Thankfully, there weren’t any signs of a concussion. However, it was explained to us that symptoms could still crop up within a 24-hour window. We were instructed to wake him every 2 hours through the night to ensure that he hadn’t lost consciousness and to get him to the ER immediately if it was difficult to rouse him or if he started puking. We’d already decided that I would stay home from work so that Frank wouldn’t have to miss his classes, so guess who didn’t get any sleep last night?
I set the alarm on my phone to go off every two hours, but it wasn’t really needed because every ten minutes I padded over to his room to be sure he was still breathing.
Wait a second – TODAY is Wednesday, isn’t it? Yesterday was only Tuesday. Good grief. I was about to scroll back up and edit what I’d written to reflect the correct days, but I’ll let it stay to serve as proof of just how out of it I am right now. All that shit happened yesterday. Today Jaiden seemed to be improving through most of the day, but around dinner time he began feeling wonky again. I hope it it’s only due to exhaustion and the fact that it was near the time for his next dose of Motrin and not because there is some developing problem. The doc reassured us that it’s normal if it takes a few days for his symptoms to abate completely. Cue paranoia.
Around noon, Nurse Frank called to let me know that Jordan crashed and burned at recess playing soccer (dammit with the soccer!). Jordan had a few scratches on his knee, which Nurse Frank patched up. Jordan was already halfway back to class by the time Nurse Frank picked up the phone. Then around 1 he called again to tell me that Kaelyn was on the receiving end of a fistful of sand in her face. He flushed out her eyes, and after I talked to her, she, too decided that she was okay to finish out the last 1.5 hours of the school day.
THEN! About an hour after bedtime, Kyra came hobbling over to our room in tears because her ribs, hip, and back were hurting from her fall. She’s usually made of iron and isn’t one to cry from general physical discomfort. While she freely doles out hugs and affection, she’s not really one to be emotionally needy or clingy. Tonight, she was almost working herself into a panic. I got a sense for how badly she was feeling when she collapsed into my lap, snaked her arms around my neck, and flopped her head on my shoulder. At a couple of months shy of age 11, she’s nearly as tall I am. I adjusted her tall, lanky body so that she wouldn’t slip out of my arms. “I’m scared,” she whispered, just as I felt her hot tears plop onto my shoulder.
I ran a hot bath for her with some epsom salts, gave her a dose of Tylenol to back up the Motrin she’d taken earlier, and managed to get her calmed down. After a half hour, she was feeling much better. We wound her torso in an Ace bandage and then tucked her into bed with the heating pad.
I am exhausted. All I want is a cup of tea…
and a hot bath of my own.
Hopefully we’ll be able to get through tomorrow without any mishaps. Jordan does have a soccer game tomorrow evening. If Thursday shits on us like Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday did, it can kiss my butt, too.
Frank and I (and his mom) are leaving early Friday morning to make the 10-hour drive to Louisiana to attend his grandfather’s funeral, which will be held on Saturday.
There are two rays of sunshine in the forecast, though. A bloggy friend who I’ve hoped to meet for years lives and works local to Frank’s hometown, so we’re going to meet up for dinner on Friday night.
And next week is Spring Break.
*Big ups to my dawg Hellraisin for sparking the Princely inspiration for this post.