Radio Silence

This past week has been a whammy. It’s consisted of getting up early for appointments on my day off, going on a full anxiety ride, discoveries, arguments, words that you wish you could take back, baby screams and cries, and dipping our toes into the teething portion of babyhood.

Though everything is fine, I can’t shake off the remaining anxiety and its aftershocks. It kicked in on Monday, after being asked to take part in something for work that I’d been trying to avoid. But Tuesday was the worst of it. While our marriage is great and we’re excellent parents and partners, a perfect marriage doesn’t exist. So, we’ve been arguing. A lot. I am in no way airing dirty laundry – I respect my husband and our privacy too much, and it’s frankly nobody’s business – but I want to shatter this illusion of “perfect marriage” that can come with pictures, loving moments and words, and praise. Again, no marriage is perfect, no image of family is flawless. Words were said, things were brought up and taken out of context, and feelings were hurt. I left for work angry, not thinking about the words we exchanged, but it all hit me hard once I parked the car. And the anxiety set in. And the tears flowed. My head felt hazy and there was no room for much else other than gripping guilt, regret, sadness, panic, and confusion. I went home with my manager’s blessing. I’m usually pretty good about leaving issues at the door, but not that day. I was in no condition to work. I took advantage of having Emerson watching the girls that day and I holed up in my room for hours. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I eventually did, or I’d starve. It felt nice to do absolutely nothing and to tune out the girls downstairs. I wish I could do it more often.

The girls have started crying and waking up during the early hours of the morning for the last couple of days (yay for teething), so it’s been hard to get a good night’s sleep. That only makes more frustration, which leads to bad moods, which then results in arguments – though smaller and tame. It also didn’t help that I had to get up early for appointments on my two days off. Tiredness and daily worries and the nonstop routine are starting to make me feel like I’m going to snap. I’ve been in a constant state of radio silence – numb towards everything and everyone (except my babies, because they’re adorable). No interest in doing anything at any given time. No interest in watching anything. The only desire I have is to be able to be still for moments on end. The only other feeling that comes to mind is paranoia. I can’t explain why, but it’s the worst I’ve ever felt.

I did make some discoveries in the last couple of days, though. I had forgotten all about the MyChart system that Strong Memorial Hospital has in place for patients; it’s a portal where all your lab tests and results and all your medical info while in their care are available to you. I only remembered it because Lydia’s Nephrologist mentioned putting her as a tab on my account. When I went into it and started browsing through the files, I made discoveries about my pregnancy that have put more questions than answers in my brain. Firstly, I apparently had a fused placenta. That would mean that, at one point, I had two placentas with one baby in each one, and those eventually fused and became one. That gives the girls a good chance of actually being fraternal. Yes, I know they look a lot alike, but they also have very different features. Yes, I know that it can happen with identical twins. Yes, I know they’re probably identical, it was just a weird discovery that has me wondering even more now. Secondly, I found out I had 3 kinds of infections that could have very well be the reason why I had the girls so early – my placentas (they actually have descriptions for Placenta A and Placenta B ) had acute chrorioamnionitis, early infarction singns on the umbilical cords, acute funisitis, and acute umbilical vasculitis. Yeah, look those up. They’re a mouthful. That has actually made me feel so much better about my preterm labor. For months, I’ve sat here and kicked myself for not being able to carry them to full-term. Now I see that I had infections that can cause spontaneous abortions, and thankfully I was into the 3rd trimester enough to where the girls were able to survive, and had no health problems because of it all. Thirdly, I now know the girls’ bloodtypes – they both have the same one and it’s the same type I have. Which reminds me, I have to ask Rick if he knows his (it’ll probably turn into me asking his mom, since he probably doesn’t know). I thought it was a sure sign of them being identical, but then the light was shed onto it – siblings can have the same blood type. I guess we’ll have to do some sort of test in the long run if I absolutely can’t get over this weird feeling that they might not be identical. Oh, well. Harmless, motherly curiosity. 

I was also able to scroll through and see all of the tests Lydia had while in the NICU, all the doctors’ notes on her lines and oxygen factors, all of everything. It’s a rather long list, and it was overwhelming at first. My baby girl, only days old, had gone through more testings and needles and blood draws and labs than I ever have in 28 years of life. I felt this tug on my chest, I felt so sorry for her. But then, I realized I shouldn’t. She, along with River, was ready to come out when she did, she is a little fighter. I’m sure than once I see River’s charts and tests and notes I’ll feel the same way. I replayed in my brain all the moments I had with them at the hospital, some very very hazy and some were as clear as if they had happened yesterday. It was quite the experience, one I’ll never forget and be glad they won’t remember.

I’m just hoping to go back to feeling normal sometime soon. I hope I can come out of this even stronger and that it won’t come back for a while. But I do know it’ll come back. I’ll just be in my silent bubble over here in the meantime.

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