I try to be superwoman. Literally, I have only told my paying job ‘no’ once. It was on a Tuesday. I was put into labor two days later. I wouldn’t have said no to their request but I had so much on my plate to get finished before my scheduled maternity leave. And I was a high risk pregnancy. At Christmas, my doctor said I should have my hospital bags packed. He was super ready to take the baby at the slightest loss of kidney function. My scheduled due date was St. Patrick’s Day. I was forced into labor on Valentine’s Day. I never made it to my scheduled maternity leave. I tried to ignore the swelling in my legs. After my baby shower in February, I was cranky with my mother in law because she pointed out how much I was swelling. I didn’t want anyone to notice. In January before my baby came, my doctor had to admit me into the hospital with a kidney infection.
He said “you knew you had a kidney infection. You should have came in sooner.”
Sheepishly I replied “I thought I had pulled a muscle. I helped moved a dresser. I didn’t want to tell anyone I did that.” I knew I wasn’t supposed to lift heavy things but I wanted to get his dresser into his room.
This hospital stay was the only real rest I got before my child was born. I read to him “Crime and Punishment.” I took a small little video on my phone when they hooked me up to the monitors and you could see and hear his kicks. I wanted to remember this pregnancy. I wanted some kind of normalcy to this pregnancy because it would be the only pregnancy I would ever experience.
It wasn’t normal. I had two to three doctor visits a week. I was supervised by two Neo Natal specialists. On Christmas Eve morning of 2012, I was rushing back to the hospital because I needed another pee jug. They were constantly making me pee in jugs. I had filled one up already and didn’t have a back up. When I look back at pregnancy pictures, I see a proud and happy mama glowing with expectations. But I also see something else.
Tired. I had a kidney infection in this picture. Since having him, I have maintained good levels of functioning in the only kidney I have, but I constantly battle infections. I can’t fight or filter like I used to. I can’t do a lot of the things I used to do. I tell myself “it’s okay. Only you can take care of you.” This past Sunday, I had to let my husband take my child to the mall alone. I hate missing out on these things. I hate missing anything involving our son. Kidney infection and ear infection, Mama needed some rest. I didn’t rest though. I sorted through the items we could sell on EBay and found him some long sleeved shirts from last year which would still fit. The weather is getting chilly in these old mountains.
Today, my husband sent me link on how I could make money from blogging. I don’t desire to make money from doing this. I make money from writing already. I do this blog to remember. Sure, if a company approaches me to write about something I believe in or a product I actually really like then hell yes, I am thrilled to write about it. But at this point, I have made zero money from this venture and I don’t really plan on it. You will not find my website littered with ads. It is not who I am. I have written my entire life.
The first piece of writing I remember doing was to my mom. It was a letter from our dead dog who had been hit by a car on this particular evening. We found her in a wheel barrow when we came home. A neighbor was nice enough to get her off the road for us. I sat down at the kitchen table with crayons and a serious intent. I made only scribble marks. After I was done, my mom asked what it was. I said it was a letter from Blaze (our Siberian Husky.) She asked what it said, and I read it to her. It said “Dear family, I won’t be home tonight. I was hit by a car. Love, Blaze” It was the only way I knew how to deal with the loss of a family pet, to write about it.
I still write about my life. I write a lot about our lives together right here, on my little piece of Pandora’s Box (the internet.) I was proud to buy my own domain name, really proud. It was my place. I don’t know if people read this. It was never meant to be a place for publicity. It is only a record. Because I do worry. I worry my kidney won’t hold up. Dialysis buys you 3 to 5 years, nor do I consider this alternative a real quality to living a life while enjoying my child. I remind myself “I ain’t there yet.” People live full lives with one kidney all the time. And I am tough as nails.
But I am not superwoman. Sometimes, I have to miss out on things. Sometimes, I miss mall adventures. Sometimes, I am cranky because I don’t feel good. Sometimes, it hurts to pick him up and carry him all the time. But I wouldn’t trade the pain for the time I have to hold him. He is my only baby. He will always be my only baby. He will only remain small for such a short period and it is seemingly going faster every day. I can write it. I can sit down on a Monday evening with a huge jug of water and write about the things I hope he will understand one day and perhaps even remember. I can share my Misfits from his Mountain Mama. These words have a chance to stand the test of time.