After my Iowa City appointment, Patrick and I quickly decided that I was not going to return to work for the remainder of the school year. I needed to focus on getting better and building up as much strength as I could before Pajamie's birth. I couldn't chance having the stress or busyness of work run me down. We decided to continue to keep the girls on their normal daycare and school routines also.
As a result, I was at home ll day long by myself unless my Dad came to visit. For those of you who really know me, you know that relaxation is not necessarily a word in my vocabulary. I am on the go constantly, I am the farthest thing from a procrastinator there is, and I die of boredom when there is nothing to do. So for me, sitting at home all day by myself was literally torture. I could not drive so I was stuck at home all day long other than when my Dad took me to therapy (which by now was only twice a week). What's a type A personality to do in that situation? Organize. Everything. I cleaned every closet and cabinet we have in our house. I came up with projects I never had time to do before. I worked on the NLXF website and begged work to send me something to do. I read 15 books over the course of a month. I was dying of boredom.
I was trying my best to stay busy so I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about my condition. My three month anniversary of my stroke was coming up quickly. All of my doctors and therapists had told me that I would experience the majority of my improvement within the first three months. Well, I was five days away from that three month mark and although I had improved greatly, I was not even close to where I wanted to be if this is where I was going to stop.
Adding to the fear was a homily that we heard on January 19 at church. It was the first time that I had gone to church (terrible, I know) since my stroke. The first homily I hear was about accepting and loving special needs children. I am a huge believer in signs and I just couldn't help but think that I was meant to hear it.
Pajamie was looking extremely healthy. We had talked to many maternal fetal medicine specialists and even geneticists that all greed she was healthy. But, not everything can be predicted by ultrasounds and tests. I will love Pajamie with my whole heart no matter if she is special needs or not. She could be special needs regardless of if I was healthy or not because that is the path that God would have chose for her. What will kill me and haunt me though is wondering if my stroke caused her to be special needs.. If I would have never had a stroke, would she have been special needs? To think that my innocent baby would have her life so drastically altered because my body failed me, or that this was God's path for me, is too much to handle. My faults should not ever affect her. I just have to pray and rely on my faith. It is all I can do.
Needless to say, my worries prompted me to write.
Facebook post from January 20, 2014
I am five days short of the three month anniversary of my stroke. My doctors have all told me that most of a persons stroke recovery occurs in the first three months. I make minor improvements everyday that equal major strides each week. Despite that I can't help but worry that I am going to plateau soon.
Many times my struggle to think positively stems from the unpredictability of my situation. Unfortunately I think my appointment in Iowa City will forever haunt me, but it goes a bit further than that. Every doctor I have seen have all said that they can't tell me how much of my impairments are temporary or permanent or how quickly I will heal. It is not known if or when my CM will bleed again. It is impossible to know how much damage I will experience if it does bleed or if I have surgery. It is uncertain to know whether that damage would be temporary or permanent or what that recovery process would entail.
So I am left feeling like I am walking on a tightrope. I walk steady and surely, but sometimes I fall. My fall is either cushioned by my fear or my faith. When my fear greets me I fight my many worries. Leading the pack are 1) What if I bleed again and am never the same? This one question leads to a billion others that I am sure you can guess. 2) What if my stroke has harmed Pajamie? I could have a million doctors tell me that it didn't but I would still worry about this. I am fine if my stroke hinders me, but I am not okay with it affecting those I love. When my fear catches me everything I think begins with, what if?
When my faith cushions my fall I find peace and strength. I allow myself to be proud of how far I have come in such a short time. I am overcome by the determination to prove all the doctors wrong. Most importantly, I enlist my stubbornness and tell my CM that I am much stronger than it is. When my faith catches me everything I think begins with, I will.
My fear brings out the realist in me while my faith brings out the optimist. The realist in me understands that I had trauma occur in my brain and realizes that even though I may come close, I will never be my prior 100%. The realist tells me to prepare myself for the chance that I could bleed again and life could change drastically. It tells me to plan for this so that my family is taken care of.
The optimist in me understands the realist but refuses to live in the world of "what if's". The optimist tells me to focus on my fast recovery and keep striving for more. The optimist tells me to dream of my future and believe in it. It tells me that Pajamie and I will be healthy and I will live a long, blessed life.
The longer I go without another bleed, the better my chances of it remaining stagnant. Chances of another bleed drop significantly after the first three months. I am on a tightrope now, but as time passes I will soon be on a 2x4, and eventually solid ground. I understand that the only way I will get to solid ground is by listening to the optimist and trusting in my faith. I am strong, stubborn, and determined. I will walk that tightrope as long as I need to prove that the optimist is right.
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