You would think that I would have breathed a sigh of relief when we were given the news that we didn’t need to see the cardiologist for 6 months. That her heart is functioning perfectly for having three chambers. That there is no substantial fluid around her heart or that her squeeze was being affected by the new pressures and circulation. Nope. All I could think about was getting back to the office. Back to my laptop where I had multiple projects going all with deadlines of yesterday. My head should have been with my heart yesterday with rejoicing in knowing that we have made it through the Fontan tunnel. Instead, both my heart and my head were living in sheer panic of what ifs and how am I going to finish…blah blah.
How important is it? I remember being asked that a lot when I would get angry about…everything. How important is it that I be valued and appreciated? How important is it that I feel like I am getting assignments completed. How important is it that I have a computer that actually works and helps me get these assignments done. There are a few important things here but I can’t lose my head over every one of them. But I did this morning. It isn’t even 10AM and I already have mascara down my face from the pressure. I woke up later than I wanted to. Headed out much alter than I should have and stressed all the way into Boston on the train. I can’t work on the red line like I could if I were on the commuter rail. And because I came in late, I will need to stay late too causing me to miss more time with my children.
Which brings me to another sore spot in my chest. My girls are sick with colds and I haven’t been able to be available for either one of them. Last night Izzie threw up in Chris’s bed for the second night in a row and I wasn’t there to help. I couldn’t help anyone. It feels awful. I can’t be available to my kids when they are sick because they shouldn’t be shuffled around if they are not feeling well. I am the biggest loser in this situation and it hurts like a bitch today. They don’t come to me to be comforted anymore. The other night Izzie kept pulling away from me and reaching for her Daddy instead of letting me rock her to sleep. I don’t know what else to do other than keep putting my foot in front of the other and hold her anyway. She did give in and cuddled with me but it was agony not feeling like her mother. I feel more like an aunt these days than a parent.
And what is happening with my divorce? Absolutely nothing which isn’t good considering I have a deadline of financial aid forms I need to start. I feel like there is this elephant in the room with dollar signs for eyes and no one is saying anything for fear of breaking out into another argument. At least that is where I am coming from anyway. I know we have to talk about things and I know that I responsible for a lot of what is going on which makes talking about this even harder. I want to be able to help financially and I can’t. I want to be able to have more time but my schedule is ridiculous.
So we have a 6 month reprieve from doctor’s visits and that is a great feeling. The only great feeling I have at the moment. I am holding onto this with both hands. These feelings are so fleeting no matter how many times I get on my knees and pray in the ladies room they always disappear to be replaced by panic. Panic that I am being seen as someone who isn’t into her work. Seen as a bad mother. Seen as someone who is just out of control. I hate feeling like this and am hoping that like everything else it will pass. Until it does, pass me the tissues.