I begged and pleaded with Dave to just take us home last night, but he told me what I already knew: That really is not an option. Sylvia and I both need constant care and I need to be close to the hospital in case an emergency should occur. I know this, but I don't want to acknowledge it. I keep thinking of ways that I could make it work at home. We could block off sections of the house. I could have food for Sylvia within easy reach and feed her while she sits on her table and I am on the couch. I could change her on the floor . . . But then I realize that these are not practical options. Someone still needs to get her in and out of her crib both first thing in the morning and at nap time. I cannot chase after her if she should get into trouble. And I know that I WILL do too much if I am at home with just the two of us. I know that I will try and clean up the messes and I know that I will end up lifting her and that I will end up preparing food and cleaning the counters and making the bed . . . I know all of this. And I know that I cannot do these things right now.
And that pains me.
I just feel so helpless. And like a bad Mama. And like a difficult wife. And like a challenging daughter.
One thing that does make me smile is the birthday gift I made my mom. I knit her a teddy bear. My mom loves bears and when she saw the one I made the Pumpkin for her birthday she informed me that she wanted one too. The one I made my mom is much larger and a far more complicated pattern. I am actually pretty proud of him, especially as the pattern was quite flawed and I had to make several corrections. I finished the night before I was admitted to the hospital and I took these pictures of him:
Isn't he cute? I especially love his rotund belly. It reminds me of Winnie the Pooh a little bit. I don't think this little guy has a name yet, but I hope my mom settles on a good one.