Baby stirs besisde me, it has been every hour, this night of feeds. He is restless again, insatable. I swing my hand back behind me and it feels only emptiness. Wayne has gone again, girls bedroom. I am sure. But .... maybe this time he Just kept going, to beyond this time, to escape this anguish. I would. If I could escape myself.
An hour later I wake again. Wayne is making coffee, it is 5.30. To work, to work. I feel his soft kiss before I here the car leave. Baby wakes, its time. I reach for a cloth nappy on the change table beside me to mop the sweat from me. The cloth nappies I use as hankies, to expel the never ending mucus. I don't have the energy to use them as they were intended. Not any more. It's all gone to shit.
I rise from bed. He wakes happy. He always wakes happy. Not a grump, not one little bit. Has to get up and go and see and do. Not a snuggler in bed. I lift him up and the ache in my ribs is stabbing at my chest. Its so hard to hold him. But I do. He's beautiful. Our son. So beautiful.
Another Night, of endless coughing, to face a another day of endless coughing. I am caught. I can't seem to wave my arms, and say, I am suffocating here, I cant breathe. I am drowning.
Here is more info on the TB story.
Every now and then I will share these moments in time, of our story.
( In between I will still be posting photos, and hopefully drawings and other less intense things.) Sorry.
To all around me at this time, these were very internal thoughts, and I know everyone of you think you could of done something more. But No, we tried, and hindsight is dangerous. You did, all you could. I am thankful and grateful for all that everyone did for my recovery. Especially Wayne. Who returned home everyday. To endure my coughing again and again.