tears

Some days can be much harder than other days as a mom.
Even more so when your baby is injured or not well.
Yesterday was fine. Last night was very difficult.

Before starting dinner, I made the mistake of reading some statistics about long term effects of brachial plexus injuries. Ouch. It was painful.

It seems that if the child is 'fully recovered' by the age of 3 months, then they have a 70% chance of maintaining full recovery by the age of 5 years old.

However, should the child still have some deficiancies at the age of 3 months, their chance of full recovery by 5 years old is only a mere 5%.

For some weeks, I have felt internal pressure to somehow 'get' her completely functional by her three month mark. Her reevaluation is for Friday, 6 May. Barely more than 2 weeks away. Yes, she is improving, and we see her doing more with her arm, but inwardly I continue to think "Will she recover enough? Is it going to be okay?" PRESSURE PRESSURE PRESSURE. At times like this, it is harder to remember that God is still soveriegn and He is still very much in control. But, He is.

So, last night, upon finding these not-so-promising numbers, the blues began...deep inside. I tried in vain to make dinner. I turned off the rice to let it steam for 20 minutes and turned to the package of chicken to cut it up. That's when the tears began to fall. I sat on the floor and picked up my daughter. I cried as I held her. Quiet, hurting tears. I realized they were not going to stop, and went upstairs with her. And cried some more. Each time they'd start afresh, my sweet little girl would look at me and smile. She'd coo a little and smile some more. I think she just knew I needed her loving...her sweetness poured onto my battered heart and soothed me.