My little cheerleader!
When
I was seven months pregnant with
my little girl, I was put on bed rest for the last 6 weeks of pregnancy
because of pre-eclampsia. I
had to go to the hospital twice a week to have a fetal stress test
done. This involves finding the baby's heart beat with a monitor,
strapping it around my belly and doing various things to test the
heart rate at rest and when awake. More than once, they had to
just unstrap the monitor and
chase her around my belly with the sensor! That set the stage
for things to come! So did the
pre-eclamsia, which was a factor in causing the high blood pressure
that never truly
went away.
Finally in July 1997, Hannah was delivered by c-section. She came into the world kicking and screaming...furious that they had interrupted her warm cozy living arrangement! She hasn't stopped moving since.
The night of my stroke, she happened to be sleeping with me. I remember waking up to her saying, "It's OK momma, it'll be OK." I still don't know why she was saying that and she doesn't remember either. I know she watched the whole ordeal unfolding....me trying to get to the bathroom, me being sick, etc.
The next morning, she went along for the ride to the emergency room. When I was released and taken to my parents' house, she was there. I don't remember much about being discharged, the drive home, or even my dad walking me to the spare bedroom and putting me to bed, but I've been told she was there for that, too. She was with me all weekend and for the ride on Monday to my doctor (the one who had delivered her) and on to the hospital. She even rode on my lap in the wheelchair up to the hospital room.
For the next three and a half weeks she spent time with both sets of grandparents, home with her daddy, and a big chunk of time with my sister and her family. It was during that time that she formed a bond with her younger cousin that lasts to this day! She's now seven and he's six (as of December 2004) and they dearly love each other.
The various relatives she was staying with would bring her up to the rehab unit almost every day. She'd go along with me to therapy, and those wonderful therapists people would let her "help". She also left one of her baby dolls with me so I wouldn't be alone in the hospital.
I think the thing I remember the most about her visits was when she would push me in my wheelchair. Now, remember, she was two months shy of being five years old, and a very busy little girl. "Fast" is her usual speed. At first, my left side was useless, and even when the paralysis was gone, I was still very weak on that side. We'd fly down the hall at break-neck speed, with me unable to stop or even slow down! I think the nurses kind of enjoyed the spectacle! One time, she took me down to the public restroom and parked me by a table. She went in the restroom, then poked her head back out and said, "Now, momma, you stay where I put you!" Even if I had tried to escape, with only one working arm, all I'd have been able to do was go around in circles, so resistance was futile!
Once when she was when she was younger (and before the stroke), she got sick and I couldn't get her to eat. So I loaded up a cookie sheet with soup and something to drink and took it into her room and told her we were going to have a picnic in bed because she needed to eat to get strong. She ate, and she never forgot. After I got home from the hospital, she was scared that I'd have to go back (she worried about that for a long time), so she decided I needed to eat to get strong. So, here she came with the cookie sheet. My meal consisted of a cup of yogurt, some juice, a couple of oreo cookies and a dill pickle spear. You can bet I choked it down! Like I've said before....resistance is futile! Besides, she was doing what she could to speed my recovery. It wasn't the food or the rides or the baby doll that gave me the will to keep at it. It was the love of my little girl!
She's still at it. Even though she is seven now (as of July of 2004), she will occasionally bring me an odd assortment of food items on a cookie sheet and insist that I eat it. I do. She also encourages me to exercise so I joined "Curves" (a nation wide exercise and diet plan for women). I am actually able to do the exercises, both cardiovascular and strength training. It has built up my stamina, coordination and strength! She also walks with me around the block--up and down hills!! (Our little town is nestled in the Ozark hills.) This November, we went back to that amusement park in which I spent my very last day of being "normal". I've been back three times since, but had to use a wheelchair, or motorized scooter. This time just Hannah and I went, and I walked the whole time! No wheelchairs or any other assistance! She kept telling me how proud she was of me. Felt kind of like a role reversal!
That is not to say that I don't ever use the motorized scooters. In the summer, the Ozarks are hot and humid. We go to Silver Dollar City frequently, but when it's hot, I rent a scooter so that I don't get wiped out. Sometimes Hannah rides with me on it.
She's a very mature eight-year-old now (as of Feb. 2006) and still my biggest supporter! If I didn't have my little cheerleader through all this, I don't know how well I would have survived and/or recovered! Sometimes, when you don't feel like trying anymore, you just look at those around you, and you can find the will to go on. If not for yourself, then for them!
Finally in July 1997, Hannah was delivered by c-section. She came into the world kicking and screaming...furious that they had interrupted her warm cozy living arrangement! She hasn't stopped moving since.
The night of my stroke, she happened to be sleeping with me. I remember waking up to her saying, "It's OK momma, it'll be OK." I still don't know why she was saying that and she doesn't remember either. I know she watched the whole ordeal unfolding....me trying to get to the bathroom, me being sick, etc.
The next morning, she went along for the ride to the emergency room. When I was released and taken to my parents' house, she was there. I don't remember much about being discharged, the drive home, or even my dad walking me to the spare bedroom and putting me to bed, but I've been told she was there for that, too. She was with me all weekend and for the ride on Monday to my doctor (the one who had delivered her) and on to the hospital. She even rode on my lap in the wheelchair up to the hospital room.
For the next three and a half weeks she spent time with both sets of grandparents, home with her daddy, and a big chunk of time with my sister and her family. It was during that time that she formed a bond with her younger cousin that lasts to this day! She's now seven and he's six (as of December 2004) and they dearly love each other.
The various relatives she was staying with would bring her up to the rehab unit almost every day. She'd go along with me to therapy, and those wonderful therapists people would let her "help". She also left one of her baby dolls with me so I wouldn't be alone in the hospital.
I think the thing I remember the most about her visits was when she would push me in my wheelchair. Now, remember, she was two months shy of being five years old, and a very busy little girl. "Fast" is her usual speed. At first, my left side was useless, and even when the paralysis was gone, I was still very weak on that side. We'd fly down the hall at break-neck speed, with me unable to stop or even slow down! I think the nurses kind of enjoyed the spectacle! One time, she took me down to the public restroom and parked me by a table. She went in the restroom, then poked her head back out and said, "Now, momma, you stay where I put you!" Even if I had tried to escape, with only one working arm, all I'd have been able to do was go around in circles, so resistance was futile!
Once when she was when she was younger (and before the stroke), she got sick and I couldn't get her to eat. So I loaded up a cookie sheet with soup and something to drink and took it into her room and told her we were going to have a picnic in bed because she needed to eat to get strong. She ate, and she never forgot. After I got home from the hospital, she was scared that I'd have to go back (she worried about that for a long time), so she decided I needed to eat to get strong. So, here she came with the cookie sheet. My meal consisted of a cup of yogurt, some juice, a couple of oreo cookies and a dill pickle spear. You can bet I choked it down! Like I've said before....resistance is futile! Besides, she was doing what she could to speed my recovery. It wasn't the food or the rides or the baby doll that gave me the will to keep at it. It was the love of my little girl!
She's still at it. Even though she is seven now (as of July of 2004), she will occasionally bring me an odd assortment of food items on a cookie sheet and insist that I eat it. I do. She also encourages me to exercise so I joined "Curves" (a nation wide exercise and diet plan for women). I am actually able to do the exercises, both cardiovascular and strength training. It has built up my stamina, coordination and strength! She also walks with me around the block--up and down hills!! (Our little town is nestled in the Ozark hills.) This November, we went back to that amusement park in which I spent my very last day of being "normal". I've been back three times since, but had to use a wheelchair, or motorized scooter. This time just Hannah and I went, and I walked the whole time! No wheelchairs or any other assistance! She kept telling me how proud she was of me. Felt kind of like a role reversal!
That is not to say that I don't ever use the motorized scooters. In the summer, the Ozarks are hot and humid. We go to Silver Dollar City frequently, but when it's hot, I rent a scooter so that I don't get wiped out. Sometimes Hannah rides with me on it.
She's a very mature eight-year-old now (as of Feb. 2006) and still my biggest supporter! If I didn't have my little cheerleader through all this, I don't know how well I would have survived and/or recovered! Sometimes, when you don't feel like trying anymore, you just look at those around you, and you can find the will to go on. If not for yourself, then for them!