I heart Payton Manning

Yesterday morning, I sat by myself in the waiting room of the Payton Manning Children’s Hospital, thumbing through the pages of the outdated Allure magazine with Katherine Heigl on the cover and taking deep breaths so that I wouldn’t cry.

Just down the hall, my baby, my little girl, my sweet Angel Face, was having more tubes shoved in her and I wasn’t there to hold her hand (or hold her down). Her father was with her, but they only allowed one parent in the room. I

 felt so alone while I was waiting there. It was only 15 minutes, but so many thoughts raced through my head, even while I appreciated Dr. Izzie Stevens’ hot bod and beautiful face. I felt guilty for not being strong enough to fight Dave to stay in the room. I hoped R. wasn’t screaming and crying and fighting like she did last month. And, honestly, part of me wondered if all the other nurses and radiologists and play therapists in the room questioned what kind of mother I was that I would be the one to leave.

It seemed like forever and it seemed like 30 seconds later when Dr. Clark (the same radiologist who viewed dozens of R.’s hip X-rays after she was born with hip dysplasia) came to get me and explained what she’d found. It wasn’t the news we were hoping for, which was no kidney damage. But it wasn’t the worst it could be. On a five-point scale, her kidneys are damaged stage one on the left side and stage two on the right side. She’ll have to take medicine daily for a year, when the tests will be repeated to see if she’ll need surgery or not.

Dave said she did beautifully – no crying, just a little wriggling when the catheter was inserted. They sedated her this time, so she should have very little memory of the event.  

In the hospital lobby, as I held her tight and kissed her groggy little head, we listened to the Von Trapp family singers (great grandchildren of Capt. Von Trapp) and I fought off tears again. Because my kid was going to be okay. But to my right and to my left were kids in wheelchairs, kids hooked up to IVs and kids with no hair.

I felt like I had no right to cry for my kid, when so many other kids may not be okay, not for a long time, maybe not ever.

This entry was posted in I'm a freak, I'm a mommy. Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to I heart Payton Manning

  1. Sarah says:

    I am sending SO many good thoughts your way. Be prepared; they will probably knock you over. I’m glad the news wasn’t bleak, even if it wasn’t perfect. I hope Thanksgiving is a quiet and happy time for you guys. Feel free to have an extra piece of pie. (Or two.)

  2. Erin says:

    I never cease to be amazed at the strength of parents of children who are sick or who have other special needs. I just got done with parent-teacher conferences, and it amazes me how positive parents can remain after all they have been though. Plus, it is just awesome how resilient little kids can be!

    Hope you are all feeling better! 🙂

  3. Vixen says:

    Oh sweetie, I am so sorry you had to go through that. You are an excellent mommy and you made the right choice for all of your family (I just know that you did).

    Hug angelface, err, R for me!

  4. Marlee says:

    *Hugs*. This Mommy thing just isn’t easy sometimes.

  5. rimarama says:

    I’m glad that Angel Face is going to be OK, even though the diagnosis wasn’t ideal (if there ever is such a thing). I highly doubt the hospital staff was judging you for not being the parent who went in; I’ll bet they see that all the time. For some reason, it’s harder for us mothers.

    I’m sending good thoughts your way . . .

  6. mommymartin says:

    Oh, I want to cry for you! We’ll be praying for Angel Face and for the wonderful parents taking care of her.

  7. skiplovey says:

    You have every right to cry and be scared when it’s your little girl that is in the hospital, for whatever reason. Hope everything goes well with the medicine and you guys have a peaceful Thanksgiving.

  8. Tears don’t have to hold up against other tears for the right to fall. Pain is pain is pain and your little girl hurting hurts you. It all hurts just the same. And we all have the right to feel the pain and work through it. We don’t need to earn the right to hurt. Sometimes we just do.

    But I am glad she’s okay. And I am hoping she’ll be even better in a year.

    Thank goodness she has two parents who love her so.

  9. My husband didn’t come with me when my daughter had a VCUG done at a year old. It was horrible, especially when the doctor tried to give me the report before I’d even gotten a diaper on her so I could hug her.
    I’m glad the news isn’t dire and that Angel Face will be ok.

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