Tag: hospital

  • Tales of the Dragon Mother

    I read a lot of other blogs. And on one of them was posed the question: What surprised you about becoming a mother?

    Note: I’m sorry I’m not crediting you and linking to you, Other Blogger. I would, if I could remember which blog was yours!

    The first thing that surprised me about being a mother was how immediately I became protective of my tiny baby. I expected it to happen–but I was also so tired that it was hard for me to feel connected to anything for a while. I don’t think I had full-blown PPD, but I was probably close.

    So there I am, in the hospital, not feeling much except exhaustion and a lot of pain from trying to periodically turn over or, god forbid, sit up. And one morning I made my way to the bathroom, because brushing my teeth was clearly a necessity, regardless of how I felt.

    When I came out, an unfamiliar man was bent over the bassinette, prodding Baguette. And I was astonished at my first impulse, which was to bellow, “Who the f–k are you and what the f–k you’re doing to my child?”

    Another note: I have a deep voice. “Bellow” is pretty much what you think it would sound like. More than one person has told me that I can be scary.

    But before I could act on that impulse, some other, more rational part of my brain whispered, “Mr. Sandwich is here. He wouldn’t let this happen without good reason. So there must be a good reason.”

    That’s when I realized that I had been about to destroy my daughter’s pediatrician. I was fully prepared to incinerate and consume him, merely for touching her.

    More recently, I read George R.R. Martin’s series A Song of Ice and Fire. Fans of this series are passionate, and look to the various characters to find reflections of themselves. What I realize is that I don’t identify most strongly with Arya, or Catelyn, or Ned, or Daenarys.

    Dragon

    I identify with the dragons.

    Photo by eigirdas, via Flickr.

  • One of Those Weeks

    You know how sometimes everything hits at once? This is one of those times. Somehow every project I have at work is at a crunch point. One of them seems headed into some sort of death spiral (naturally, this is the one that is highest profile). We’re exhausted, because Baguette keeps crying in her sleep for no reason we can identify. And this morning Mr. Sandwich’s sister called to say that their mother is in the hospital, so we handed off immediate duties and headed across town to see her, bearing a couple of books I thought she’d like (turns out that one of them was her favorite Georgette Heyer). Fortunately, she seems to be on the mend.

    So as I look at the photo we took of Baguette a month ago, with her impish little grin, I just want to go home and hug her.

    But first I have to have a meeting about that death spiral. Life’s all about the trade-offs, right? Right?