Dreamers deal with negativity

For the most part, I have absolutely loved the nurses that have been caring for Kenna.  I know they have an incredibly challenging job.  I am reminded constantly that she is the smallest and most critical baby in the NICU.

I get it.

What I don't get is why we have one nurse that I want to refer to as Nurse Doom.  Yes, she is young and seems very good at her job.  I will give her the props she deserves.  At the same time, she always has something negative to say.  And by that, I don't mean simply the report.

Sure, the medical report often leaves something to be desired.  Nothing is ever 100% good with Kenna.  There is always a downside.  It will be like this for a while.  We know this.  We accept this.  We work through the constant fear.

It is constant...just lingering there on the fringe of my awareness.

Any moment, the phone rings and my world could be shattered.  Any moment, Kenna could suddenly tank.  At the same time I choose not to think like that.  I can't.  How could I even function if I did?

So there I was, at the hospital last night.  And I listened as the nurses changed shifts and spoke about what was going on with Kenna.  Communication is key.  And then, Nurse Doom started.  I gave her a chance.  I really did.

me: Tell me something good.

nurse: Well, she's really sick.  She's so premature...

And as yesterday was a bit of a sensitive day, I had to stop her.  My eyes were already watering up.

me: I kept her in as long as I could.  I did everything imaginable to keep her safe, make her healthy.

She nodded.  I don't think she had considered how personally I could take all of those comments.

I had to decide on Monday whether it was safer to keep her in or take her out.  And the answer was definitely to give her a chance, she had to be born.  It wasn't an easy decision.  It wasn't even an easy c-section.

They could barely get the spinal in.  It took forever and countless tries.  They had to open up the back side of my uterus.  Do you have any idea what it takes to open up the back side of the uterus?  I wish I didn't.  I could have gone my entire life without knowing that, without feeling it, without Sam seeing it.  I'm ridiculously bruised from the lack of platelets.  It was quite the experience.

And that only came after weeks of bed rest, a ridiculous number of doctor appointments during that time, lots of shots, and a restricted diet.  I'm not sure what aspect of that hurt more.  It's a really close call.

Before that, even, I did everything I was supposed to.  I ate right.  I exercised.  I took my vitamins.

Needless to say, I don't need to be reminded that she came too early.  I don't need to be reminded that she is sick.  What I do need is for someone to consider that there is hope.  She's still here.  Kenna is a fighter.  There is always hope.

Sam said the nicest thing today.

Sam: I think we need to save the burning of the Christmas tree for when Kenna comes home.  We'll have a Baby Warming Party.

You heard that, right?  He said 'when.'

me: I love that idea.  My mom could come down and Jennie and George.

You know me.  I love having something to plan and look forward to.  (Not that Kenna's homecoming isn't enough...)  That is how I handle negativity.  I find that little flicker of hope, then I turn it into a raging bonfire.  Our next big one...for Kenna.