The conclusion to my Thanksgiving injury: it is okay. The orthopedist performed surgery on my hand and, as he said, "I'm baffled." Neither the tendon nor the nerve were cut; both were just damaged. I'm not sure what this means for the long-term (my pinky and ring-finger are still numb), but I cannot help but feel extremely thankful that I do not have to recover from a tendon repair (6-weeks without picking up my kids, 8- to 12-weeks for a full recovery plus rehab). Honestly, I did not know what I would do come January when life went back to normal and I no longer had "holiday help" with the kids. I only had one week by myself. My husband got home as early as possible and I limped along in between friends stopping by with meals and changing my babies. Currently, I am essentially recovering from stitches. The palm of my hand was cut open; it is stitched and wrapped, making it fairly difficult to take care of almost 8-month old twins and a 3-year old.
I am grateful for this new perspective. It sounds silly, I know. It was a small injury that caused a ridiculous fuss. But because of it I came to appreciate how much these day-to-day tasks mean to me. How I miss the smiles they give me when I take them out of their highchairs, a task I now need help with for the time being. I miss being able to comfort them at night (try getting a teething baby back to sleep with one hand). While these things can be tiring, they are interactions with my children. I am so thankful that my hand is healing and that soon I will be the one once again changing diapers in the middle of the night and wiping down messy babies in their highchairs. And I will love it.
Which brings me to what I am extremely grateful for: both of my hands. We were sliding into a funk before this. The babies aren't crawling; they are just angry they can't move more. Getting out with them was difficult with spoon feedings and their desire to keep moving, talk to someone new, see what is around the corner, go, go, go! (I don't even want to know how it will be when they are walking.) It was starting to overwhelm me and staying home was easier than going out. Fun things that D enjoys doing were shelved because I didn't want to deal with the hassle (Target trips, kids playplaces, lunch out). Then I am stuck doing a fifteen minute diaper change because I only have one hand. Suddenly, all of those things seem fun again and I miss having the option to leave the house. To spoon feed the babies alone while my hand was in a fiberglass splint, I developed a strange system with the Bumbos that involved tipping them over at the end to get them out of those amazing little seats. There is no dignity in infancy.
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