Ups and Downs

Today was a definite up and down day for Mark. He was awake before me (and I got up before 5:00). He had slept well, felt good, and was HAPPY! Almost too happy! No, not really, but I like things quiet when I'm writing, and Mark, when he feels good, is ... well, not exactly quiet! But it was good to see him up and around and clearly feeling good.

I had a meeting with the Sunday school coordinator this morning so I took Mark to the church when I went in. Afterwards, I took Bren to the park. I was freezing, though. What happened to that awesome weather we had less than two weeks ago? Sometimes I think (or would think, if I believed in such things) that the gods are dangling Spring in front of us like a sick psycho might dangle meat in front of a starving man. I am not kidding; the cold of that metal park bench went right through my jeans! But Brendan didn't seem to mind at all. I could hardly drag him away when finally I decided I'd had enough.

I went back to the church to pick up Mark, then home to finish up my website. (More about that tomorrow.) Shortly after we got home, the pain kicked in for Mark. He tried everything, waited several hours, but finally we had to go to the ER.

It was a tough night for Mark. They weren't able to avoid narcotics, but they tried for several more hours. Mark was just so tired and in so much pain that he just wanted it to go away. I had to keep reminding him that they are looking out for the big picture, that their reluctance to give him an IV is in order to preserve his veins and their hesitation to order narcotics is part of a plan that Mark himself has agreed to. They are helping him. But it doesn't seem like that to him, when he is writhing in pain, when he feels like he has a knife twisting in his side and they have the means to stop the pain -- and won't. In the end, though, it was clear that nothing was going to break through except narcotics so they gave him a small dose and cut us loose. Hopefully, together with the massive amounts of atavan they gave him, the toradol and the ... um, the nausea medication that starts with a Z (?) ... Zofran (?) ... maybe he'll be able to get to sleep. Fingers crossed.

I felt so helpless tonight. Sitting there next to him, I thought back to the times when I have been in labor, and Mark has been the one beside the bed. Feel free to smack me silly for saying such a stupid thing as what I'm going to say next, but tonight I almost thought that I preferred those times to these. I wouldn't want his pain now. No way, no how. But at least then I was somewhat in control. Okay, that's the biggest illusion I have ever succumbed to! Being in labor is, by definition, being out of control of your own body. But when it's your own pain, you can kind of "own" it. You can take it in and work with it. Maybe you hate it. Maybe you mutter and complain and even scream your way through it, but it's your pain ... and so you deal with it. You thrash your way through it, and you come out the other side. But this? This sitting there watching someone you love cry and writhe and dry heave ... to not have any idea what to say ... to be unable to do anything to help beyond just fetching yet another cup of ice chips ... That feeling of helplessness in the face of great pain ... what can I say? There's very little in life that I like less than that feeling.