It was just the five of us for Thanksgiving this year (that includes Brody and Cartman).
The littlest turkey had her two-month check-up last week, and we asked her doctor if Lucy was cleared to attend a family Thanksgiving dinner.
She (after getting an ” Are you kidding me right now?” look on her face) advised us against it.
With her neutrophil count still below normal, a large family gathering combined with being at a home that's not our own poses risk for infection.
I was bummed when I learned that we wouldn't be able to participate in family Turkey Day festivities, but not nearly as sad as I was on Thanksgiving morning.
I put the parade on, which is something we do every year...before heading over to whichever parent's house we'd be spending the day at.
There are three options, since Andy's parents are divorced and mine live ten minutes away.
I have this uncanny habit of crying over whatever is bugging me right before Andy leaves for work.
The parade was on and I was tidying up the house while Lucy napped and hubby got ready for work and it just hit me that we wouldn't be spending time with family on Thanksgiving and I just started crying.
I never really thought about what the day meant to me before, because we've never been in the situation where we couldn't be with family on a major holiday.
I've just always taken it for granted that we could be with people we cared about on Thanksgiving, no questions asked.
I am so thankful Lucy is healthy.
It is so hard not being able to visit the homes of people we love. People come over, and we go out and meet friends and family for dinner/coffee/walks around the mall.
But it's not the same as being able to go veg at someone else's home, have family dinners, play games, etc.
I learned recently that someone close to me thinks that we're not being completely truthful about the steps we've taken to safeguard Lucy. The no people in our house for a month after she came home, and no one but Andy and I allowed to hold her for that month.
The finally letting people into our home after that month and holding baby girl.
The not being able to visits the homes of grandparents, aunts and uncles and friends.
The being allowed to take her to the grocery store and the mall and restaurants as long as they're not overly crowded.
All because before she was born and before we knew about her immune disorder, we said we wanted to limit how often and how long people came to visit our home so we three could bond.
I'm really hurt by this person thinking I'd make this stuff up.
This person wasn't in the NICU with us when the doctor told us what we needed to do to keep the baby safe. They're not at every pediatrician appointment where we ask the doctor what baby step we can take so that Lucy can be with her loved ones that love her already.
Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I suck at lying. It's probably a good thing I'm not good at it.
And anyone who knows me well would know that I would never choose to not be able to have people over for a month, let alone keep my baby to one room for a month (which means Andy and I were also stuck in that one room for most of each day for that month).
Or that I would never choose not being able to go hang out with the baby.
I would certainly not choose not being able to be with loved ones on Thanksgiving.
These past 12 weeks have been hard. So hard. Having a newborn baby is hard, but then add in a tremendous amount of cabin fever when you are well and able-bodied enough to pop your baby in the car and drive.
I just hope this person some day realizes that we were telling the truth about the measures we've had to take to keep the baby healthy and will not take for granted the fact that Lucy is alive because of the sacrifices we've had to make to keep her safe from infection while she gets through her fight with neutropenia.
The littlest turkey had her two-month check-up last week, and we asked her doctor if Lucy was cleared to attend a family Thanksgiving dinner.
She (after getting an ” Are you kidding me right now?” look on her face) advised us against it.
With her neutrophil count still below normal, a large family gathering combined with being at a home that's not our own poses risk for infection.
I was bummed when I learned that we wouldn't be able to participate in family Turkey Day festivities, but not nearly as sad as I was on Thanksgiving morning.
I put the parade on, which is something we do every year...before heading over to whichever parent's house we'd be spending the day at.
There are three options, since Andy's parents are divorced and mine live ten minutes away.
I have this uncanny habit of crying over whatever is bugging me right before Andy leaves for work.
The parade was on and I was tidying up the house while Lucy napped and hubby got ready for work and it just hit me that we wouldn't be spending time with family on Thanksgiving and I just started crying.
I never really thought about what the day meant to me before, because we've never been in the situation where we couldn't be with family on a major holiday.
I've just always taken it for granted that we could be with people we cared about on Thanksgiving, no questions asked.
I am so thankful Lucy is healthy.
It is so hard not being able to visit the homes of people we love. People come over, and we go out and meet friends and family for dinner/coffee/walks around the mall.
But it's not the same as being able to go veg at someone else's home, have family dinners, play games, etc.
I learned recently that someone close to me thinks that we're not being completely truthful about the steps we've taken to safeguard Lucy. The no people in our house for a month after she came home, and no one but Andy and I allowed to hold her for that month.
The finally letting people into our home after that month and holding baby girl.
The not being able to visits the homes of grandparents, aunts and uncles and friends.
The being allowed to take her to the grocery store and the mall and restaurants as long as they're not overly crowded.
All because before she was born and before we knew about her immune disorder, we said we wanted to limit how often and how long people came to visit our home so we three could bond.
I'm really hurt by this person thinking I'd make this stuff up.
This person wasn't in the NICU with us when the doctor told us what we needed to do to keep the baby safe. They're not at every pediatrician appointment where we ask the doctor what baby step we can take so that Lucy can be with her loved ones that love her already.
Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I suck at lying. It's probably a good thing I'm not good at it.
And anyone who knows me well would know that I would never choose to not be able to have people over for a month, let alone keep my baby to one room for a month (which means Andy and I were also stuck in that one room for most of each day for that month).
Or that I would never choose not being able to go hang out with the baby.
I would certainly not choose not being able to be with loved ones on Thanksgiving.
These past 12 weeks have been hard. So hard. Having a newborn baby is hard, but then add in a tremendous amount of cabin fever when you are well and able-bodied enough to pop your baby in the car and drive.
I just hope this person some day realizes that we were telling the truth about the measures we've had to take to keep the baby healthy and will not take for granted the fact that Lucy is alive because of the sacrifices we've had to make to keep her safe from infection while she gets through her fight with neutropenia.
1 comment:
I can never post on my phone, so i am glad I have the blog up on the computer. I am so sorry!! We love you!
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