So between Little Dumpling’s heart and Jas’ lungs, it’s been a whirlwind and somewhat scary couple of weeks. While I was fairly positive regarding Little Dumpling’s prognosis, there have absolutely been moments (multiple moments) when I truly feared for Jas. (Being pregnant doesn’t really help as it takes mere seconds for my calm, collected self to disappear and despair to set it.) Just last night, as I watched her pull deeply to breathe while laying down, I feared that she might not make it through the night. When I told Luffy that I was going to make a little pallet for myself in the living room (I wanted to sleep closer to her), he gently chided me and then drug our mattress into the living room so that I could watch over my baby. I have contemplated taking her to the emergency vet several times over the past few days, endlessly debating the she-looks-ok-but-what-about-now-or-now-or-now.
So you can probably imagine my deep relief when I pulled into our driveway after class Monday night and saw my mom’s car. Unbeknownst to me, she had planned all along to be here for Little Dumpling’s Level II scan Tuesday morning, for moral support. Then, when Jas starting going downhill, she decided to throw her plans for a surprise out the door (although it was still completely a surprise) and quite literally show up at our doorstep Monday evening. She wanted to check on her babies: me, Little Dumpling, and Jas.
Having my mom here brought me so much strength and peace. I instantly felt calmer (although still emotional) with her here. I had no fear going into the scan and was delighted that she got another opportunity to see the little boy. (Plus he’s grown so much since she last saw him!) We oohed and awed over him as he filled the screen and then breathed a sigh of relief together when the doctor assured us that everything looked just fine. Then, while I headed off to work*, she stayed at our house all day, keeping an eye on Jas, feeding her treats and noting when she ate. Such a relief. I selfishly wish I could have her here all week, just for extra peace of mind.
When I think about her visit, I get so overcome with emotion. I’m so grateful she made the drive to be here. I’m so grateful for her soothing presence during these worrisome times. I can’t thank her enough for everything and each time I try to I break down crying because it just means so, so much to me.
*Times like these are when I’m so conflicted about working outside of the home. To people like my boss, a pet’s illness is a mere inconvenience. Therefore, he doesn’t understand when I drop everything to take her to the vet or want to work from home to keep an eye on her (as if the mere fact that I’m present will keep her from going downhill). And yet, I’m also glad that I have somewhere to be and something to keep my brain occupied. I analyze her every breathe when I have too much free time and despondency lies that way.