Sunday, February 03, 2008


One of the things I've heard since the moment Sadie was born is that she's feisty. And I've always agreed. The child came out of the womb screaming, and screamed until the moment she was intubated, even though it was difficult, given her condition. The first time I held her she cried as loudly as she could (which wasn't that loud, as she'd just had the breathing tube removed). During the first months of withdrawal from the medications she had, she screamed. In the middle of the night she often wakes and screams. At the grocery store, at birthday parties, in the library, in the car... (you may get where I'm going here)... she screams.

Tonight she threw one of her infamous fits as I took her out of the tub (from which she and her sister had emptied an entire bottle of baby wash and were trying to create bubbles by swishing around like crazy). As I was trying to keep her on my lap while she kicked and squirmed, I saw her scar, remembered I needed to write a blog tonight, and also, felt incredibly grateful for her screams. For a few minutes at least.

It's tough having a child like Sadie that has such a "challenging disposition." But at the same time, her screams are a reassurance to me. I often laugh to myself thinking of how desperate I was to hear her cries for the first time after surgery. Though it doesn't seem like it when I'm at wits end after a day of 10-12 tantrums, I am happy that her heart is strong enough to support her feisty spirit. Heaven knows that that poor little organ must work incredibly hard.

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