When Your Bubble Starts To Crack
I live in a bubble. A bubble of positivity, good vibes, hope and love that keeps me buoyant. It keeps my head above water as we navigate our way through the myriad of specialists, therapists, doctors, waiting rooms, treatments, medications, scans, procedures, consults, appointments, expectations, behaviours, and emotions that come with my son’s diagnosis.
Every so often, the cracks start to show and the fear and uncertainty that hover nearby start to creep in before the bubble pops and the full weight of our reality comes crashing down, crushing me, squeezing the air from my lungs. And for that moment I am unable to breathe. Unable to move. Unable to focus on anything other than how much my heart aches for my son and all he has to endure.
When Christopher was born, my bubble was fragile and fleeting. It burst often and the ever changing and uncertain nature of our reality was overwhelming and all encompassing. It would take something as small and simple as a tv commercial, watching siblings play in the park, hearing ‘Mummy I love you’ from a sweet girl at the supermarket or seeing a toddler squeal in laughter upon his daddy’s shoulders and my whole world would come crashing down.
These days, my bubble is tougher. It is full of the happy smiles of my children and the love and support of those around me. It doesn’t burst so easily, but today it did.
Tomorrow we head to Sydney. Christopher is having hip surgery on Tuesday. He will be in a Hip Spica for six weeks after surgery, with weeks of intensive physio and water therapies following that. I can’t bear to think of my boy scared or in pain - as he is non-verbal I am petrified I will miss it. The epic proportions of all of this, incorporating the care of his 20-month and 7-week old sisters, have finally sunk in.
The mammoth weeks we have ahead of us broke me today, but I know that we have made the right decision. This surgery will reduce his pain and discomfort, and improve his quality of life in the future.
So tonight all I can do is squeeze him tight. Tonight I rest and tomorrow my bubble will be buoyant and bright again. I am his advocate and I have to be his voice.
This is a guest blog from Mumma Pam Rogers, mother-of-3 from Canberra, Australia. She is a part of the baby luno Mum Diaries team and will be blogging regularly as she continues on her motherhood journey and we can't wait to follow.
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