I awake early in the dark hours of the morning. I listen to my husband hustle back and forth from the bathroom, to the closet, and the laundry room. Doing his normal routine a pace or two quicker than a day I don’t spend on the couch with a broken foot. I fall back asleep with a splash of light falling on my face.
I awake to sounds coming over the baby monitor. On a good day there are giggles and toddler chatter. On a bad day, similar to this morning, there are cries. If my husband is lucky, they are minimal. If he is unlucky, like today, they only get worse the longer Maximus is on the changing table. I lay in the dark of my bedroom with no way of helping. I watch the green lights of the monitor fly to the top with each sob. Heart-wrenching sobs. Sounds that we haven’t heard before. I lay there wondering if he’s hurting. Wondering if he has a diaper rash or what could cause this horrible outburst. I try to curl up into a ball but my cast prevents me from doing anything other than lay there listening. I stare at the door, willing it to open as the voices fade from the nursery. I hear the shuffle of the table chairs and actually speak out loud into the darkness, “He doesn’t have to eat breakfast.” I can’t bear to listen to him crying anymore. If he doesn’t want breakfast, make it easier on both of you.
Minutes later, my bedroom door opens and light floods in. A silhouette of my husband passes through and lets the dog out of the bedroom. Next, he enters my room and grabs my water bottle. Another one of our “new” daily routines. “Do you need anything more?” Is something wrong with him, I ask. “Life.” My heart breaks a little more because I can’t comfort him or hold him. When he’s upset he wants to snuggle as you stand. I can’t do anything to comfort him. I continue to listen to my family move about the kitchen, trying to figure out when Maximus has been “released” from his torture {high chair}.
I see their shadow on the wall through the crack of the bedroom door. I *think*, I hope they are coming to see me. Some mornings I get to snuggle Maximus before he goes to daycare, some mornings he doesn’t want me to hold him, some mornings Bryan says bye to me while Maximus is eating breakfast. Each morning is so different, depending on my husband’s work schedule or Maximus’ attitude. Today, they both come into my room to say good-bye. Maximus all bundled up in his coat and ready to go to daycare. I grab his hand and try to talk to him. He snuggles into Bryan’s shoulder and turns away from me. I rub a bare part of his leg and tell him to have a good day. Bryan opens the blinds so he can see me in the dark. He looks outside instead of at me. He doesn’t say bye-bye or wave as they leave. Bryan gives an excuse for him as he walks out the door. I lay back on my pillow and pet the dog as he sighs with contentment. It makes me feel a little better to have someone happy to have me near.
I listen to my family start their day while I try to find a comfortable position for my foot. I grab my phone and type a quick Facebook status, “One week done in the cast. One week to go!” I know after my cast comes off I still won’t be able to be a part of the morning routine. I’ve still got three weeks left without putting any weight on my foot. BUT, I know I’m one week closer to being a participant in this family instead of a responsibility for them.
Been there, done that, and it definitely sucks! I found that keeping the foot elevated makes a huge difference in the recovery…Just wanted to offer some encouragement–it really does get better. There are a bunch of people who had broken feet or mid-foot injuries who kept blogs…some of them might be good reading when you get really bored!