As the dust settles on a horrific time in our lives, routines reinstate and days pass with little to no fumbles. It's funny how you naturally adjust to new schedules and additional daily tasks. Add it on to my to do list. It will get done.
It's nice to have the questions, puzzled looks and obvious whispering...lessen. It used to tear me to shreds to have strangers glare at my baby. I could feel their stares. I could sometimes feel their invisible fingers pointing at me, as if to blame me for what they imagined must have happened to my child. It was almost like I could hear them watching and assuming I neglected my daughter and her casts were because she broke both of her legs. That guilt that they placed upon me, cut like a knife.
Maybe I place blame on myself, for the scars that Harlow will forever have to bare. You always want your children to have it better than you did and in that sense, maybe I have let her down. I will never know what it's like to grow up with skin grafts on the back on my calves. I'll never know how it feels to walk with half of a heel. And I hate that. It makes me sick to my stomach to know that is her burden to carry.
But I did everything I could to keep her safe and healthy. She is my greatest joy and the best thing that I've ever had...protecting her is all I think about. Septic shock is nothing I could have prepared for. No one could.
Scars heal and slowly fade. She won't remember any of the trauma she experienced. I pray that walking comes easily for her and that with the help of physical therapy, she can learn to be mobile, with no pain. As those concerns ring in my head, new questions arise.
How is this little 17 month old so strong? How will these new scars affect her? And the most important one....how would I live my life without this precious blessing that I have been given?
