2 AM and I'm still trying to clean up today's mess in my head.
What started out as a day with an endless blue sky turned into a grey day. Paint it with the color of faded straw and dead greens. The color of plowed fields and wet pavement. Cold wintry rain splatters windshields.
Zoe and Jen are home. Hallelujah. The discharge took an eternity, with paperwork and visits and tests. Before they left, Zoe was given an hearing exam, which showed she is deaf.
For some reason, this news was as jarring to me as any I've received in the last 2 weeks. More jarring than sitting in the pharmacy and trying to figure out how many days you'll be renting a breastfeeding pump. 7? 30? 90?
I think it's because it adds to the helplessness I feel with everything. To know my singing to her over the last two weeks went unheard is a fitting metaphor to how meaningless all my gifts and energy feel to this whole situation.
Jen's struggling, too. For some reason, her milk production has stopped. It might have been malnourishment. Maybe it's stress. Just an hour ago, she was in tears explaining the only way she felt she was contributing was drying up. Like singing to a deaf child.
So it was Walmart at 1 AM. I'm always tempted on those late night trips to get a little something for me. I'm not sure why. I wandered the book aisle, quick glanced at candy. Just the formula tonight.
On the way home, I saw a message on my cell - somehow I'd missed a call at some point tonight. Just a relative telling me they were a little disappointed in me. That seems about right. I'm a little disappointed in this whole day.
Grey day. I'm sitting here knowing that they'd all be grey if it weren't for the sacrifices and prayers of so many. Yes, even you, disappointed relative.
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