Fixing What’s Broken

March 31, 2010 at 2:03 pm | Posted in Bun, Family, Giggles, Lollipop | 23 Comments


I know what people mean when they say their pain is “excruciating.” I know because I’m feeling it.

My cold? Is still with me. I sound like coffee percolating when I breathe. And I’m now the proud owner of an inhaler.

My cough? So bad it’s bruised my ribs. Made them pop and sear. Necessitated emergency visits to the chiropractor.

Sleep? Impossible. I sit on the couch — because lying is too painful — and close my eyes, eventually dozing off for an hour or two so my brain doesn’t shut down from weariness.

Standing, sitting, walking, bending, breathing? Excruciating.

But I could handle it, the constant feeling of being stabbed, of being unable to fill my lungs. I could handle it if it were just me. Just my mind and my body learning to cope with this temporary reality. Just me waiting for the medicine to work. Just me waiting for my muscles to heal themselves.

But it’s not just me. And the real pain, the really excruciating pain? Is in my heart.

Because I can’t know with certainty that Bun is OK. That he can handle these medicines. That my body will provide oxygen to him before me. That every little kick and tug is not a plea for help. That he doesn’t need to come out. Now.

Because I can’t hold Lollipop and Giggles. Can’t lift them, hug them, tuck them in. Can’t sit on the bed and read their favorite stories. Can’t push them on the swing, tickle them, stroke their hair. Can’t take a breath deep enough to smell their soft, soapy sweetness.

I want to cry. But I can’t. Because that makes it worse. The breathing worse, the ribs worse, the cough worse. The Pain. Worse. So I have to keep it in, keep it together, pretend to be calm. When on the inside? I’m falling apart.

My body is broken. And so is my heart.



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  1. What do your doctor’s say? How far along are you?

    My thoughts and prayers are with you. I hope you have an update soon.

    • “doctors” rather.

      • Thanks for the thoughts. About a month to go, give or take. Doctor says my oxygen is fine, or “as high as it can be in my situation.” We’re just keeping an eye on everything and praying for a little relief.

  2. Hang in there, Stacia! I imagine Bun’s kicks just mean he is healthy and active. YOU CAN DO IT!!

  3. I’m sure Bun is fine. He’s probably just anxious to come out and say hello. And when he does, you’ll have something new to worry about because the worries never end. I do hope you feel better soon.

  4. Oh honey!! So so very hard! I wish I could come by, make you a comfy meal, hot tea, let you put your feet up and keep you company. The inhaler will help tremendously, I had to use one for pneumonia myself in my first pregnancy. I’m certain you’ll feel better soon because of it. It’s hard so hard, I wish there was something I can do to help make it better. Sending hugs and lots of healthy energy.

  5. Oh Stacia! I’m so sorry. You’ve got enough stress on your body when pregnant alone, without a cold that won’t go away. I wish there was something to say to make it better, just know I’m thinking of you!

  6. I hope you get healthy soon. And that the little one is growing along and doing perfectly well.

  7. Oh babe! Sending you good, strong, healthy lung vibes…

  8. Wishing you good thoughts, peaceful periods of rest, and easy breaths. You’ll be feeling better soon and your Bun will be just fine.

    Hang in there.

  9. Hoping you’ll soon be able to breathe easy. Sending Aussie sunshine your way and hoping things (meaning you, actually) get better soon.

  10. Oh, I’m so sorry! I know the feeling of just waiting out the pain, and it’s hard enough without being worried about how your physical condition is impacting your Bun, and then to not even be able to have the comfort of hugging your kids…that’s just so hard. I hope you’re feeling better soon!

  11. Oh, I’m sorry you’re in such pain!
    Bun will be fine; your body gives EVERYthing to that.
    You just take care of yourself. I know it’s so hard not to carry or do what you want with the other children. I was there, a long time ago yes, but I remember. This will not be what lasts.
    I hope you feel better soon. Breathing difficulties are the worst.
    Hang in there…

  12. Oh honey, God Bless you and i hope you feel better really soon and when you do even though you can’t pick-up, hug, or kiss the kids now when you are feeling better think of all the fun you’re going to have making up for it. 🙂

  13. Stacia, I am so sorry you are in so much pain–physically and emotionally. Carrying a child is a sacrifice for the whole family. Of course, this sacrifice is harder for those who don’t understand: children. I wish I could give you a hug, so I’m sending some virtual ones your way. (((hugs)))

  14. Oh, you poor sweet thing! Hang in there. I wish there was more I could do for you. Sending hugs instead. 🙂

  15. Oh Stacia that sounds horrible! I’m sure Bun is okay. Our bodies have a way of taking care of their needs first I think. But I hope you get some relief soon! Ugh.

  16. Oh, honey! I’m sure that Bun is okay, too. Just hang in there!

  17. Hope you are feeling better soon. I’m sure if you could get rest and some deep breaths that would be a good cure. I hope that comes to you soon.

    Don’t know if an anecdote will bring you any comfort, but will try. My mom had a horrible chest cold or flu right before I was born. In fact, she probably was in labor for a while but didn’t realize it because her lungs and body hurt so much from coughing. She took a lot of medicine–stuff they’d probably never allow now–so at least she was able to sleep. And I came out perfectly healthy. I know your Bun will too. Sending you wishes of ease and sleep and peace.

  18. That sounds awful!
    I was sick for most of my second pregnancy and the most difficult part (besides feeling like crap) was my son asking me to play or pick him up or run around and I couldn’t do it. I was already about to rock his world with a new baby and I couldn’t even be the mama that he was used to while pregnant. Ugh.
    Hope you are on the mends soon! And my guess is that the bambino in the belly is doing fine. Our bodies tend to prioritize them. (Maybe why your illness has been so hard.)

  19. Oh, Stacia, sending you so much love and every single good wish for an end to this never-ending illness. xoxo

  20. Wow, thank you, everyone, for the wishes and reassurance. Your comments mean so much!

  21. Let me know if you want me to drop off a box of Puffs, with lotion! Seriously.

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