Still Strong?

It took 7 months, but it finally happened.  Mikayla has been a mystery since she was 3 weeks old.  Reflux, colic, food allergies…  Intestinally we’ve struggled.  We’ve been to countless doctor’s appointments and finally resting today at a Gastroenterologist office, in hopes of finding the root cause behind the never ending struggles we have been having with her reflux.  New medication, dose changes, no medication; nothing seems to relieve Mikayla of the discomforts of her reflux. 

As I prepared for this appointment today I filled out the necessary paperwork and began to wonder what the doctors would have to say.  I could feel it welling up inside of me..defeat was trying to take over.  I have been strong up until this point.  I made it through each appointment, listened to what the doctors had to say and hoped the chosen course of treatment would be the right one for Mikayla. I never broke down. I never waivered.  I stayed focused on the one goal of making Mikayla better.  However, today’s appointment was big.  This one would (hopefully) be the ‘tell all’ in our last ditch effort on what would help our little baby.  My eyes filed with tears a few times this morning as the anticipation built for the coming appointment.  I pushed it away--thinking to myself: cut it out. be strong. answers will be heard. 

Today’s appointment brought a new course of treatment, starting with a new formula free of all milk proteins, has become our main focus.  Still strong.  A scheduled ultrasound to check out her belly.  Still strong.  Three vials of blood, 2 poked arms, lots of baby tears.  Still (not so) strong. 

To top things off, Mikayla has decided that she would rather not do a whole lot of eating the past 3 days.  This has lead to a rather uncomfortable case of constipation.  Mom’s and Dad’s out there—ever dealt with it?  Putting it mildly; it sucks to deal with. 

One attempt at a suppository.  Still strong.  Lots of belly rubs and leg wiggling.  Still strong.  Lots of baby tears.  Not so strong.  Two (unsuccessful) warm baths. Defeat is knocking really loudly.  One successful dose of PediaLax.  Lots of baby tears.  Exhausted baby snuggles with fingers in her mouth, and passes out on my chest.

And I lost it.  Throw in the towel.  Wave my white flag.  I sobbed like a little baby.  I just can’t handle seeing her in pain anymore.  She is too little and too innocent.  She now looks to her daddy and I and has that look of fear and pain.  Her little eyes, through rivers of tears, say “help make me feel better.” 

It is because of those eyes that I pick myself up.  I write to make it seem like a memory.  To make it feel like it is in the past-over and done with.  I will wake up tomorrow and move on to the next appointment, all in the hopes of making Mikayla’s tomorrow a comfortable one.