Um….apparently someone neglected to tell Abbie that you can’t hop out of bed with two huge casts on.
Last night she began sitting herself up and wriggling, as if to free herself. Today Genevieve noticed her raising and moving her right leg. Funny, WE can’t move that leg without vigorous, hearty protests from our girl…but on her own, it’s no problem. I think she was enjoying moving about, standing up, being on hands and knees, wheeling around in a stroller as much as we were (probably more). Her mind continues to tell her to GET UP — I love that, but it is heartbreaking to watch her hit the wall, the big pink fiberglass wall, that keeps her restrained right now.
I was going to write about how much better her pain level is, but I was delayed in posting by a huge meltdown. I can’t tell you what it does to me to have her crying inconsolably. I can’t giver her the meds fast enough. I talked to the surgeon today, who felt that we should be able to taper down the Tylenol with codeine. We have somewhat, but when those cries begin, I don’t care about anything but getting her comfortable. The surgeon feels that we will take the casts off on Jan. 13. Not exactly around the corner, but having a date makes it seem closer!
As she was whimpering, I put my hands over her knees and prayed for God to send the power of all the prayers being lifted for Abbie. The next moment she began crying loudly, and her knees got hot. It was strange…no other part of her cast was hot, just the part over her fractures. I don’t understand it, but I do believe that in that moment each of you were standing there with us. If nothing else, it helped this mom not feel so alone and overwhelmed.
I walked into the bathroom tonight, looked into the mirror and realized that at this hour eighteen years ago I was in labor with my first child. I was young, and had not a clue about what I was getting myself into. It’s amazing Chase survived me. In that mirror I saw unknowing youth that had been replaced with a few wisps of gray and some hard-earned wisdom. I still can’t believe that tomorrow I will be the parent of an “adult” (please, note the quotations!). Does anything change us more than our children? Perhaps only our Father.
I pray that in the silent of the night, anticipation fills your heart — Emmanuel is coming. God is ever with us.