Ava is 11 years young. A strikingly beautiful girl with hair long past her shoulders and wide brown eyes seen through her glasses. She has a laugh that spreads joy and always tries to find the humor in everything. She's confident, strong, and resilient. She's much like a flower, though...she's fragile.
Ever since Lindsay went into the hospital to have her right lower leg amputated Ava's been tight-lipped. She is intolerant of her brother and sister (more than usual) and recoils when family time is mentioned (which is unlike her). She eats less than usual and that beautiful smile has been replaced by a frown.
On Mother's Day, I took the kids to Dunkin' Donuts. Henry and Ella ate their donuts and sandwiches without missing a beat. Ava let hers sit in front of her as she gazed out the window. This is not like her at all as she loves sweets! She didn't want to participate in the conversation at hand. She didn't want a hug or even my hand rubbing on her back. She wanted to go home. After Dunkin' Donuts, we went across the street to the Jewel Food Store where I had some banking to do and then go shopping for a Mother's Day gift for Lindsay. Ava was impatient and wanted to get in line and then go home. She was distracted and painfully ambivalent.
Our plan was to buy Lindsay a gift (Fannie Mae chocolates) and then go to the hospital to deliver them to her. Ava sat slumped in the car not engaging at all with Henry or Ella...and if there was any engagement it was all negative towards them. She was bitter and impatient.
We arrived at the hospital mid-afternoon and Lindsay was awake when we got there. Henry ran up to her and gave her a hug in her bed and Ella wheeled as close as she could to give hugs as well. Ava stood back and had to be called over for the hug. She was timid, shy, and uncharacteristically quiet. When the hug was over she retreated to the couch across the room and opened up her iPad. That was all we heard from Ava that afternoon. Every so often I would look over to her and I could see tears welling up in her eyes; but she refused to cry or let anyone know they were there.
When we got home Ava asked me if she could stay home from school on Monday. I talked with Lindsay about it and we agreed that she might need that time to continue processing what's going on. Ava told me she was stressed about everything and couldn't put words to her feelings. When I told her she could stay home, a flash of relief washed over her face and she let out a sincere "Thank you."
The next morning I got Henry and Ella off to school. I then mowed the lawn. By the time I was finished and walked into the house I found Ava on the big chair with her iPad, curled up with the dogs. I called her over to me on the couch. Immediately she curled up next to me and laid her head on my chest. We sat in silence for a few moments and I asked her how her stress level was. She replied that it was still there. We talked a bit about how things will be different around home but that this amputation will give her mom the life she's always wanted back...the life of taking care of her family without physical obstacles. It will be hard at times, but it's all for the best.
I thought maybe she and I could go to the hospital on our own and she could have one-on-one time with her mommy. She thought that was an ok idea but then asked if she could FaceTime her instead. I spoke with Lindsay and she thought that'd be great. I took Ava out to lunch and when we returned she dialed Lindsay's number for a FaceTime session. I left them alone to talk.
When I returned and she was finished with the conversation I asked her how it went. She told me it was really good and she sported a smile on her beautiful face with two thumbs up.
Even though Ava is the oldest she's still a child...our child. And she needs her mother just as much as Henry and Ella need her, if not more. The bond she's created with her mother dictates an ongoing connection that is threatened by Lindsay being in the hospital and suffering. Ava's mind reacted with stress although she couldn't define what emotions were trying to be expressed. It's a complicated twist of feelings and needs.
Spending alone time with her mother, even through FaceTime, proved to be a blessing for Ava...and one for Lindsay as well.
Maybe Ava's flower will now bloom again.
Ever since Lindsay went into the hospital to have her right lower leg amputated Ava's been tight-lipped. She is intolerant of her brother and sister (more than usual) and recoils when family time is mentioned (which is unlike her). She eats less than usual and that beautiful smile has been replaced by a frown.
On Mother's Day, I took the kids to Dunkin' Donuts. Henry and Ella ate their donuts and sandwiches without missing a beat. Ava let hers sit in front of her as she gazed out the window. This is not like her at all as she loves sweets! She didn't want to participate in the conversation at hand. She didn't want a hug or even my hand rubbing on her back. She wanted to go home. After Dunkin' Donuts, we went across the street to the Jewel Food Store where I had some banking to do and then go shopping for a Mother's Day gift for Lindsay. Ava was impatient and wanted to get in line and then go home. She was distracted and painfully ambivalent.
Our plan was to buy Lindsay a gift (Fannie Mae chocolates) and then go to the hospital to deliver them to her. Ava sat slumped in the car not engaging at all with Henry or Ella...and if there was any engagement it was all negative towards them. She was bitter and impatient.
We arrived at the hospital mid-afternoon and Lindsay was awake when we got there. Henry ran up to her and gave her a hug in her bed and Ella wheeled as close as she could to give hugs as well. Ava stood back and had to be called over for the hug. She was timid, shy, and uncharacteristically quiet. When the hug was over she retreated to the couch across the room and opened up her iPad. That was all we heard from Ava that afternoon. Every so often I would look over to her and I could see tears welling up in her eyes; but she refused to cry or let anyone know they were there.
When we got home Ava asked me if she could stay home from school on Monday. I talked with Lindsay about it and we agreed that she might need that time to continue processing what's going on. Ava told me she was stressed about everything and couldn't put words to her feelings. When I told her she could stay home, a flash of relief washed over her face and she let out a sincere "Thank you."
The next morning I got Henry and Ella off to school. I then mowed the lawn. By the time I was finished and walked into the house I found Ava on the big chair with her iPad, curled up with the dogs. I called her over to me on the couch. Immediately she curled up next to me and laid her head on my chest. We sat in silence for a few moments and I asked her how her stress level was. She replied that it was still there. We talked a bit about how things will be different around home but that this amputation will give her mom the life she's always wanted back...the life of taking care of her family without physical obstacles. It will be hard at times, but it's all for the best.
I thought maybe she and I could go to the hospital on our own and she could have one-on-one time with her mommy. She thought that was an ok idea but then asked if she could FaceTime her instead. I spoke with Lindsay and she thought that'd be great. I took Ava out to lunch and when we returned she dialed Lindsay's number for a FaceTime session. I left them alone to talk.
When I returned and she was finished with the conversation I asked her how it went. She told me it was really good and she sported a smile on her beautiful face with two thumbs up.
Even though Ava is the oldest she's still a child...our child. And she needs her mother just as much as Henry and Ella need her, if not more. The bond she's created with her mother dictates an ongoing connection that is threatened by Lindsay being in the hospital and suffering. Ava's mind reacted with stress although she couldn't define what emotions were trying to be expressed. It's a complicated twist of feelings and needs.
Spending alone time with her mother, even through FaceTime, proved to be a blessing for Ava...and one for Lindsay as well.
Maybe Ava's flower will now bloom again.
