Welcome To Holland 

So today I read the poem welcome to Holland written by Emily Perl Kingsley.

I had to read it twice and softly felt a tear roll down my face. At first it made me think of number 1 and our journey getting his diagnosis of Autism. Then my thoughts flutter to number 3. Our baby boy....the one who has had me praying to god in hospital waiting rooms since the day he entered the world with a true knot in his cord tied twice around his neck, the pyloric stenosis and his first operation at 10weeks old and then his hospital admissions, placed on oxygen, the ambulances and the now. 

(I'm emotional and full of self pity...why him?)

I feel so strange today, it's getting ready to snow outside so my anxieties are tripping out right now as I monitor number 3's oxygen levels and observe every breath, recession and tug that I see or, maybe I imagined it, or maybe it was a just a little tug...aaahhh I don't really know right now. 

(I'm so drained)

It's been around 10 days since our last hospital admission and 8 weeks since our last 5 day stretch of oxygen and nebulisers. Number 3 has severe asthma, or that's what he is treated for, but he is still under the care of the hospital Consultant because he has low neutrophil (white blood cells) severe anaemia which isn't improving after 3 months of iron and apparently his red blood cells are small and pale. Not entirely sure what any of that means but his oxygen levels in his blood drops low and drops quickly so here we are. He had 3months at home in the winter which meant we lost my husbands income whilst he looked after number 3 and I was needed in the office for the tax deadline.

(We are all exhausted)

The other week we had a routine appointment. Number 3 was happy (when people ask how he is we simply say "yes he's good he's "happy", thank you") so this particular morning he was happy and his oxygen levels were actually perfect despite a few bad days that week. As we got out the car and headed into the hospital number 3 put his scarf over his mouth and I gave him a kiss acknowledging that I too had felt the cold air and I knew we had to get him into the hospital as soon as to avoid an attack.

(I'm counting the steps the main entrance)

We got to our appointment and he played happily with the toys in the waiting room and then in the Drs office. He was still in his pjs and his hair wasn't brushed because he was having a rough week with his asthma and one bit of upset and we could have an attack on our hands so in the morning I wiped his face changed his nappy and we headed to the hospital. The nurses understand. 

(I'm swallowing my anxieties)

The Dr and I went through the usual points and I heard myself using lots of medical terminology as I’ve spent so much time in the hospital these last 3 years I've learnt the lingo! So number 3 held out his finger for the oxygen check and lifts his top for the breathing check without being asked as he knows the routine. The Dr and I exchange a bit of small talk as we do each time "he's a pro at this" "he knows the routine" whilst the Dr tries to hide the sympathetic look in her eyes and usually responds with something like "good boy I wish they were all like you" or " wow mum you've got him trained well".

(I am so tired)

We discuss the list of the medications he is currently on whilst the dr checks him over, so far he looks great but I know he's not.

· Cetirizine

· Clenil

· Salbutamol

· Steroid tablets

· Movical

· Montelukast Tablets

· Iorn

· Oxygen(as required in hospital)

· Nebuliser (as required in hospital)

· Emergency Antibiotics at home

I think that's it I say as the Dr notes it all down.
Next his allergies...penicillin - severe.
(I'm so bored, of it all)

Then comes the awkward silence as I know despite the giggles and playfulness it occurs to me from the paleness in his face and his tummy rising the wrong way number 3 is declining and he needs his medication, because we were in the cold for 5 minutes and all this excitement at the hospital affected him

(I'm worried again)

I do though like the Dr to see him at his worse as he is what they call a "happy wheezer" and is very misleading as at first glance he looks well, his chest is clear as a bell etc and then we check his oxygen levels....

(Here we go again)

Within 10 minutes number 3 had to be given his emergency medication and after no improvement was admitted on the ward for observation until his condition improved. He went from perfect toddler happy to severe asthma attack happy in the space of 20minutes!!

(I'm getting ready again..we will get through this)

We have to be admitted to the ward every time his oxygen drops until he can maintain a safe level. The nurses come around to observe him and check his oxygen every 30minutes and again we exchange small talk about how good he is, he knows the routine bla bla bla.

(I'm doing this, he's in the best place, I need a sweet tea)

We didn't need oxygen this time which was great and we could go home later that day which was also great as my poor two other children hate having to wait for us to be home. I left that morning saying I would be back as it was just a routine appointment thank god for my neighbours. I should have know better... 

(I'm home and ready for the next time, I hug my boys and say sorry I had to leave them again. They do love number 3 and we are all happy to be home)

*Paused as number 3 just fell asleep on the floor so needed checking to make sure this is sleep and not passing out from low oxygen)

I'm back he's good...levels are borderline but that's expected with this cold weather he's prob just tired from his low iron.

The poem I read this morning was just so beautiful and I felt every word touch my soul. I am all supermum'd out today I can feel my tiredness in the pits of my stomach  or that could be my anxiety or hunger as it's lunchtime and I haven't had breakfast yet sh*t! I have no appetite, I wish I had a chef right now or maybe I should have meal prepped instead of sleeping and working this weekend to cover the gap in my income?   I can't even go out to get food shopping as we can't leave the house when it's cold like this....I should do an online shop but I just can't think...

Meh!! 

So this poem, it couldn't be more true. I built my career over the last decade and studied and strived to be what I am now fully qualified accountant and tax assistant at one of the big 4 firms, go me right?! Wrong :( !!!! despite the hurdles I faced raising my other two boys alone back then in the shadow of my battle with number 1s autism, low income (holes in my shoes and late night bus journeys after college pregnant holding Number 1 as I couldn't afford to run my car ) and my own insecurities that often lead me down the wrong path back then but I got through it. I climbed mountains (Snowden and Scaffel Pike) I was nominated for several student awards and won one, coming runner up in others, I had it all going on this was my journey to Italy and I was loving it. But today this poem resonates like no other....

I woke up in Holland.... let's be honest I was always in holland since the day number 1 was born.

I have reduced to part time hours with my career on hold whilst I ponder over the decision to just end my career completely so that I can care for number 3 and maintain a standard at home. I am happily married we have a beautiful home, a dog, food on the table etc but I've never been so tired.

My soul is tired.

My heart is just so heavy it's worn out from racing so much in the ambulances and hospital wards these last 3 years. I know I'm a shadow of my former self, it's okay I'm not complaining I would literally give my life for my children.Wait I AM going to give my life as I know it for my children.

(I'm nostalgic)

I need to make some life changing decisions and embrace beautiful Holland. 

(I'm determined)

By doing so I need to say goodbye to the fast life, the tall offices made of glass, the holidays we book just because and I need to enjoy my slow lane...the days in because it's too cold to take number 3 out, the lazy movie days because number 3's energy is just totally zapped alongwith the juggling act of keeping number 2 and number 1 happy and loved whilst trying not to neglect my marriage and the vowels we took just one year ago.

(I've got this)

I quietly and slowly sacrificed a lot of friendships these last few years some may think it's because I found love, I got married, I think I'm too good, I don't care anymore, the usual but actually it's because I ended up in Holland on a one way ticket whilst they were still back in my hometown.

(I'm lonely)

I do though have a beautiful family who I try to see as much as I can they understand if I can't make a function or cancel last minute without judgement and that's the kind of love my household needs.

(I'm truly blessed)

No body will ever understand what it is like to wake up in Holland. 

Funnily enough number 1 loves Tulips he always talks about how amazing it would be being surrounded by Tulips. 

How ironic

 x o