Post Malone Tears

I remember in my addiction how often my father told me I was killing him, like literally killing him and I didn’t quite grasp the magnitude of what he meant back then, I didn’t understand the sleepless nights, the lengths he went to in an attempt to help me or why he wouldn’t just leave me the fuck alone to die. I didn’t get it.

Now I get it.

A lot of people have told me in the last few weeks how strong I am – that’s nice and all but I’m a big wimp just pretending it’s been all good.

The night before surgery I literally lost my shit in the car listening to Post Malone “I fall apart” I was like yaaaassss I do, I do, I fall apart, oh my god you’re speaking to my soul. And that was when it hit me for the first time – everything I had selfishly put my father through during my active addiction. My thoughts have a way of spiraling – in a 20 minute drive I had somehow imagined every possible scenario of what could go wrong with my baby, that something would go wrong during the surgery and she wouldn’t make it like we went deep and dark and I was having a fucking fit about this entire made up scenario. And then I’m like Jesus Christ like this must have been what my father did on a regular basis like this is why the man couldn’t sleep, this is why he chased me through random streets and had my friends hunting me down when I was states away. Except his fear was a bit more rational – I was literally killing myself.

So Dad, if you’re reading this – I’m sorry. I understand now the lengths you will go to to help your child, to take away their pain.

Riley’s surgery went well – there were no complications but there’s things no one really prepares you for – like what they look like after.

Other than my Post Malone meltdown I had mostly kept my shit together, I had some pretty lame tears when i handed Riley off to the surgeon but it was everything after the surgery that really tests your mental stability- which I apparently don’t have much of 🤣

Some nurse named JS or jessssssss who I was already super pissed with because of the area Riley was in (parents can’t stay overnight with them) escorted me back to see her. She was in this little crib thing on her back with her arms sprawled out to her side, head back, eyes and mouth open, pale as fuck and clearly high as a fucking kite. Like honest to god, my first thought was that my baby looked dead and they were tricking me into identifying her body. And i lost it – like it made me so sick to my stomach and I didn’t want to be around her. I needed air, I needed to go – I couldn’t look at my baby like that.

So I left.

And I felt beyond guilty, like a terrible mom but I was not having it and she was super sedated and drugged and her new nurse Rachel made me feel safe enough to leave her – mostly because she reminded me of Rachel from friends.

So my family and i left we got some Chinese food, I hugged some random doctor my dad knew in the street cus like duh I hug strangers and not my own family, and you know why? Cus Stranger hugs have no bad memories attached to them – (deeeep right?) and then we go back one last time to say goodnight to riley. But like I’m still not having it I need to be out of the hospital stat.

The following morning, I went back first thing and Riley was being taken off the ketamine and was in an excruciating amount of pain. She was laying on her side screaming, she cocked her head back at me and was giving me these eyes as her face turned purple that were shouting, help me mommy please and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t even hold her.

These are the two worst things I have seen so far as a parent – I cannot imagine the things my father has witnessed, or my poor sister and friends chasing my dumb ass around.

There is nothing like that feeling of helplessness when your child or someone you love is hurting.

Again dad – I’m sorry, I understand. <

That was Tuesday – Tuesday was rough and I definitely I took my shit out on a few people that probably didn’t Deserve it because what control freak enjoys having absolutely no control. Not me.

But yesterday was better. Riley’s pain seemed more managed and today she’s been doing great – we actually moved from the cicu to the regular cardio unit and unlike her mommy Riley doesn’t take her oxy any chance she can. She’s just fucking powering through and smiling and her happy little self again – it’s fucking amazing.

This has been a shit storm of a month but Riley and I have been leaning on each other and some other great people that have been super helpful, whether it was sitting with us at the hospital, being my texting buddy and tagging me in memes, our nurse friends who gave us advice, random friends checking in and sending redbull money (🙌🏼🙏🏼) and all Riley’s baby friends sending their love ❤️ we are truly blessed.

We totally hope to be home by Christmas Eve so we can watch Home Alone and wake up to our Christmas stockings at the end of our beds but if not we will be okay and are just thankful that this little peanut is happy and healthy and able to be held by her mommy again ❤️

Here’s to you sweet girl, you are such a little badass and mommy is so proud of you. Lexie PS

One thought on “Post Malone Tears

  1. Funny how much growth hurts. Especially spiritually. You are awesome…might not appreciate yet, but you are.
    As far as parenthood: failure is never an option.


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