Yesterday was day twenty, and I spent the afternoon with you. It was a really tough day for me (although, I shouldn’t complain). It was the hardest day with you so far. You were awake, you had your glasses on, and you were looking the best you’ve looked. Your eye wasn’t swollen and little evidence remained of your bruise. It looked like you put purple eye liner on. Your cheek was swollen ever so slightly from your recent surgeries…but otherwise you looked good. Your baby belly was much bigger little AJH was moving all around and so were you. You grabbed my hand and squeezed it so tightly. I kept telling you that you were okay, and that Kristina and I were here with you, but you didn’t react. You’d move your hand from mine to the bed and back to mine again. You seemed so painfully uncomfortable, agitated and fidgety. I ached for you. I know how you usually love to be so comfortable, always cozy in your big sweaters and sweatpants at home, balled up into the tiniest ball on the sofa, either watching tv or reading a book. I miss that. I’m sure you do too.
It has been twenty days.
Scotty read you some cards, massaged lotion on your hands, and kissed you lovingly on the forehead (I still can’t reach you, I wish I was taller, although if I had a wish, I wouldn’t waste it on that). He read you one card, I’m not sure who it was from but it had a puppy on it, he turned the card to show it to you and you took it from him and tried to open it. It made us all smile that you did that. It was the first time that happened. He’s working so hard to care for you, so loyal and so overwhelmed with his life right now that I can’t even imagine his pain. I’m sure he’s in a fog, just going through the motions, he has no time to plan or think of the future right now…we are all that way. Just holding our breath….and…waiting. It has been twenty days.
The trauma doctor arrived to check out your shoulder, she said you seemed well. (You weren’t you were uncomfortable, anyone that knew you could tell). Your shoulder was, for now, in place. Another trauma doctor told us today that you were making ‘Incredible Improvements’ – that gave me a shred of hope to cling to. He mentioned that your injury, to him, seemed more like a stroke injury then a DAI (Diffuse Axonal Inury) and that most of the damage seemed to be on the left side. You’ll get better. It was only day twenty.
AJH is 29.2 now…everyone’s hoping she stays with you till 34 weeks…I hope that you are better by 34 weeks. So you can hold your baby girl and smile. We have time. It was only day twenty.
Everyday you’ll face struggles, you’ll be pissed, you’ll want to scream, and quit, and just give up…everyone says you won’t because of that little girl. I think you won’t because you are you. Please don’t give up. Don’t let this thing, this one thing, be the thing that breaks your spirit. You are bigger than any of this…you will overcome this, because you are the only person that can.
Just rest. It has only been twenty days.
It has been twenty days…since I’ve seen you smile or heard your laugh or talked about my day with you. It has been twenty days…since we’ve planned for the arrival of your daughter and her baby shower. It has been twenty days, twenty, and I just miss you.