Today is the one year anniversary of when Averi was finally allowed to come home with her family after spending a week at her birth hospital and another 40 days at the Children’s Hospital. This is a day of celebration, right? Well it was, at least until about lunch time.
As I sat there yet again trying to get Averi to drink just one ounce from her bottle, she insisted on screaming, arching her back, and pushing the bottle away. I finally just had enough. I sat her in her chair, looked her in the face, and screamed. (Yes, to all of you who have these crazy ideas that I am handling things so well, here is my proof otherwise.)
I had to walk away because I was so frustrated, so I threw the bottle in the sink and melted into tears on my kitchen floor. Then, being the person that I am, I got up, washed the dishes, and made lunch for Kaili. Someone has to do it and apparently I have no idea how to leave a task anything but 100% done, all the time.
I cried because I felt guilty for yelling at my 1 year old, but also because I’m just so tired. I don’t mind working on something insistently, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting for some proof of my efforts. Averi has been home for a year now and I’ve been working with her at OT for 6 months and I’m still trying to coax one little ounce of milk into her.
I’m tired of spending a fourth of my day putting food into her. I’m tired of moving backwards instead of forwards. I’m tired of feeling like my life is a waste of time. I’m tired of feeling guilty for not spending more time with Kaili or more play time with Averi. I’m tired of willingly giving so much of myself to get nothing in return. I’m tired of pretending to be strong.
A year ago today Averi came home from the hospital, and what do we really have to show for it? I want so much more for her…but most of all I just want this stupid G-tube to go away.