Caving In

*WARNING*

This post contains lots of whining, venting, and emotions.

This is for the sake of recording details, even the bad, of this heart journey 

so feel free to not read.

This past week has been hell.  Now that the excitement of being home has ebbed the stress has hit full force.  At first, it wasn't so bad.  We were really only tied down by the feeding tube.  I didn't even have Olivia hooked up to her pulse ox full time because when it would alarm it was because she was satting high.  And what could I do about that?  Suck the air out of her?  But ever since our readmission a couple weeks ago this whole heart life has gotten too real.  We're stuck in the house and especially in the living room.  I'm going stir crazy but worse than that, Ella is going stir crazy.

Ella has been having such a hard time lately.  She doesn't even ask to go outside anymore because she knows the answer.  We can make it to the front yard but the way the oxygen is set up Livie and I are confined to the front porch so I can't even play with Ella.  I feel like the world's worst mother.  I can't even manage to do indoor activities with her because every time I try Olivia decides that it's time to eat, sat low, or just have some grumpy baby time.  So Ella asks to watch movies and I let her because all she hears lately is no.  No, don't touch your sister, your hands aren't clean.  No jumping right there, you're too close to Livie's tubes.  No talking because you're too loud.  She tries so hard to be a big helper but seeing as she's still a very excited toddler she gets told no most of the time.  And of course, this means she's been acting out.  Tantrums over everything.  I feel so bad because I know exactly why she's acting out and I want so badly to just hold her and coddle her and give her whatever she wants but at the same time, I know that wouldn't do any good.  Ella has gone to spend the week with a friend of mine and the fact that I know she'll be happier there than she would be here just breaks my heart.  I feel like a total failure because I don't know what to do to manage my time in a way where she gets what she needs while making sure Olivia is taken care of as well.  

And I'm not sure that I'm doing an ok job with Livie either.  I never know if stuff with her is heart related or just regular baby stuff.  If she starts sleeping more I can't help but wonder if her heart isn't doing well.  But then, maybe she's just going through a growth spurt.  Juggling pumping, feeding, diapers, meds, dr's appointments, hauling all her machines around, and then trying to find a few seconds to shower, use the restroom, and eat is more than overwhelming.  It's a miracle everyday that I shower.  And after all that, am I giving her all the right kinds of attention that she needs?  I know I'm taking care of her medical needs alright but am I playing with her enough?  Her first smile went to Andrew.  And now so has her first laugh.  Is it because he's the one making her happy while I'm just the one keeping her healthy?  

This past week Livie pulled her feeding tube and there was a whole lot of drama getting that all taken care of.  Then Ella has had the worse case of terrible two's that she's ever had.  Olivia's been needing more and more oxygen which is making me worry like crazy.  I only have to get up with Livie once or twice a night yet every morning I wake up I feel like I didn't get more than a couple hours.  Andrew has worked late almost every night since we've been home so he hasn't been able to help much either.  

I feel so weighted down.  So guilty for not being able to be the mom that I need to be.  I feel so guilty for needing friends to take Ella for the week, or for a couple hours to the park, or for having my mother come up on her day off to clean, or friends spending their time helping me fold laundry.  Everyone keeps telling me they're willing to help but I feel like such a failure when I have to accept it.  It's so frustrating when hitting your head on a piece of plastic (which I did this morning and it didn't hurt) can turn you into a sobbing mess.  And even more frustrating when your little two year old finds you and takes on the role of mommy to try and dry those tears and make you happy again.  

I'm sorry if I sound ungrateful.  I am grateful for so much.  I am so lucky to have both my girls and so blessed that Olivia was born when she was so I didn't have to say goodbye to her.  I'm grateful for all the help that people have "forced" me to accept.  It's pretty amazing how you can be more blessed than you've ever been but be having the hardest time you've ever had.  Sometimes it's just so much easier to see the walls caving in on you than it is to see the people (and more importantly Person) digging you out.  I guess this was just one of those weeks where all I could see were those walls.