"Mommy why do you have to be in the hospital?"

One of the most difficult parts of being in the hospital was seeing what it was putting my children through. My 7 year old wrote me this card and presented it to me asking me to read it out lout. I broke down in tears after the first half of it, and had to put it down. I brought her into a deep hug, and promised her I would be coming home real soon. She nodded okay and walked away. Moments later she returned with the card pointing to it and silently gesturing with her face that I should finish reading it. "why do you have to be in the hospital....?" She needed me to read this and answer her. It was her only way of communicating her feelings to me, and demanding answers to her concerns and questions. I answered her again with tears in my eyes. I answered all four of my kids, promising I would be home Sunday morning (it was Friday). I explained that I just had to be feeling a little better before I could go home. They nodded silently to this, and hung around a bit longer before it was time to go. It crushed my heart knowing what this was doing to them. And it also pushed me to heal quicker and stay on top of my game. 

Later that day, I had one of the worst days in the hospital. I had written about this in a previous post so I wont go into details here. But the point is, that knowing what promise I had made to my children allowed me the strength to keep on fighting thru the pain, the nausea, and the physical therapy. I would not allow myself to stop eating, or to quit learning how to mobilize with my walker with PT. I was a fighter, and I was going to win this fight at the hospital of getting better by my discharge date, so that I could go home to my kids on Sunday as promised. 

I have been home for a week and a half now, and the pride and excitement I see in my childrens' eyes when I reach a new milestone is priceless. The first week home I needed assistance from my husband getting in and out of bed. Since I am not allowed to use my right leg at all, in order to get into the bed, I needed someone to physically hold and lift that leg for me. The physical therapist had taught me a way of doing it on my own at the hospital in case I would ever be left alone, but at that point I was in too much pain and too weak to be able to do it. Well...after a week at home, I finally built the strength and coordination to do it, and got into the bed by myself! One day my 7 year old comes into the room and sees me getting into bed on my own. She quickly asks me out of concern, "Mommy, don't you need Daddy to help you?!". I explain to her that I learned how to do it myself, and ask her if she would like to see. She nods with excitement and watches every step of the way until I am safely in the bed. She then excitedly asks me "should I tell Daddy you did it?!". I tell her sure, and she runs to the kitchen exclaiming " Daddy! Daddy! Mommy got into the bed all by herself!"

These are the moments I treasure. These are the moments I can see what impact everything has on our precious children, and these are the moments I know I have to fight hard and take care of myself to allow for the smoothest recovery. 

The next day one of my 9 year old twins had a similar interaction with me, watching me get into the bed and looking at me with awe and pride. 

It used to be me looking at their milestones with those feelings of awe and pride. Its somewhat painful to see them having to be on the other side at such young ages. But at the same time I know I am teaching them precious lessons in life;  I am teaching them lessons about fighting, about pushing yourself, about taking care of yourself, and about overcoming obstacles. 

I love my children more than anything in the world, and can not wait to be able to be on the care giving end again. It will happen soon enough I know, and for now I am teaching them valuable life lessons at my bedside, and giving them an abundance of love, hugs, and kisses.