Adahlia is a mysterious creature.
This morning, while putting various items away, I set our brown Gemini baby carrier on the ground. It’s a fantastic device that can be worn to carry a baby facing you, facing out, on your hip, or on your back like a backpack. I haven’t worn her in it in awhile, opting for the 20 lb arm workout instead of carrying her. Well, she crawled over and held it up with a big smile on her face. Naturally, I put if on, slid her in to face me, and she folded into me, resting her head on me, wrapping her arms around me. Magic.
On our short, slow walk to the park, downhill (joe met us there to carry her back for me), I noticed how pale she looked. It’s funny, her complexion. Even after a transfusion, she just doesn’t have the flush to her cheeks and skin that most of us have. There’s a quality of emptiness, or something of an ethereal nature. Like she’s not quite fully here.
Because, well, in a way, she isn’t. She isn’t quite as tethered to her body as we are.
In so many traditions, particularly ancient Chinese, the blood carries the spirit. Think of “blood brothers” in various cultures and “blood branching” in certain military circles and the numbers of people who faint at the sight of blood, our obsession and fascination with vampires, and the various religious groups that forbid blood transfusion and you begin to realize that this isn’t some sort peculiarity. Yes, if you lose too much of it you die, but it is more than that. With all our understandings of molecules and chemistry, we cannot create synthetic blood in a lab. When we pledge allegiance, we describe “bleeding” a certain color or colors. There is something undeniably special, something “you” about your blood.
There are people who receive organ transplant who describe the sudden onset of strange dreams, or visions, that seem to be from a life they’ve never lived. They sometimes even describe new affinities, new feelings.
Later tonight, Adahlia looked great. Rosy cheeks, rosy lips, flushed skin.
Not doing so hot myself, and thinking longingly of the days when I could just run a bath for myself and lie in it, I decided to run an experiment. I discovered that a nearly 14-month baby will let you lie down in a bath. In fact, she’ll love it. Simply lay back, placing said baby on your lower belly, astride and facing you. Reach over for the foaming, organic baby soap and squirt some on your belly, on the nearest bath toy, and on her fingers. She will happily play and wash your belly, and her belly, for at least a solid 15 minutes. You just have to keep the soap coming. And if you’ve never had the pleasure of having your baby return the favor of washing you, I learned it’s just as precious as having her feed you!
And speaking of feeding, Adahlia fed our not-quite-tame, not-quite-wild squirrel friend today. She has been crawling up to me occasionally over the last couple of days with her stuffed squirrel in hand, showing it to me and pointing at the sliding glass door. I explain that we can’t make the squirrel come on demand, that she’s her own squirrel. And it had been weeks since we’d seen her.
Well, wouldn’t you know it but she showed up today. Adahlia has watched me hand-feed her peanuts at various points throughout the summer. The sighting of this squirrel never fails to elicit a series of excited chirping and pointing from Adahlia. I put the peanut in her fingers, and, braving both the horror of concerned mothers everywhere and child services, told her to hold it out, and held her hand as she did so (just in case, and more to protect the squirrel than to protect Adahlia.)
The squirrel was none to pleased to be being fed by a child whose energy was the equivalent of pent-up firecrackers, roller coasters, and whirligigs, but she did her part. She came forward, gently took the peanut, and raced away to bury it. We repeated the event several times, closing the slider to await her return while Adahlia sat on watch, the next peanut ready in her grasp. Adahlia even got to the point where she helped slide the door shut after the squirrel scampered off. Very cute.
Since I’m being long winded, I might as well say that I’ve been to the ER twice now in the last 2 weeks, and to several subsequent appts. In the 10 days between those ER visits, the hydronephrosis in my right kidney increased from moderate to just shy of severe. In addition, my left kidney is showing mild hydro again. (I feel pain it in fairly consistently but it only occasionally has water on it.)
So I am slated for surgery in 10 days again. I’m not super jazzed about going back into the OR, but Id also like to save what remains of my right kidney function, which took a blow from the previous episode. I’m pretty confident in natural medicines ability to improve the function of any remaining nephrons, but I need to get the thing drained before I can think about clarifying and tonifying it.
The doctors’ theory is that I have a blood vessel, a vein or an artery, crossing my right ureter that will probably, eventually, need removed and reattached in a better position. Because of pregnancy and breastfeeding, my hormones have relaxed my ureters and are allowing urine to build up in the kidneys. This is fairly normal to a very mild extent, but the swelling pushes the ureter against the suspected (not yet confirmed) crossing vessel on the right side, making drainage into a big problem.
Hence, right now, they are not worried about the left, but are rather willing to do some cut-and-paste work on the right. We compromised on a more conservative plan to have another stent placed (or as many as necessary, because they need replaced every so often) to drain and save the nephrons now. Perhaps, when I am done breastfeeding Adahlia, this won’t be a problem anymore. If it is, then we do the surgery.
Perhaps its crazy, because I am effectively electing to have multiple instead of one more surgery, but I’m just not willing to stop breastfeeding to see if that solves the problem. If possible, I want to keep breastfeeding through April, or the next cold and flu season. It’s important for healthy children, and I feel it might be vital to Adahlia. I’m also not willing to have the extended hospital stay, recovery time, and possible complications of a more major surgery right now. Adahlia still needs me too much. But, things change. We will see.
In the meantime, I’m trying the pregnancy regime that I did when i didn’t “know” it was kidney pain, which is lots of localized heat via a hearing pad at night, and swimming in a pool during the day. Back then, I think the motion and heat helped open and move fluid. It is my hope that it will take some pressure off the cells until the surgeon puts another stent in. Because its not the water that kills the nephrons, its the pressure of the water on the cells over time.
Anyway, back to Adahlia.
I wonder sometimes, about her need for transfusions. She hasn’t healed herself spontaneously yet, nor fully responded to the chinese herbal therapy. We have yet to get her nutritional panel complete and see if specific vitamin, amino acid, or cofactor supplementation might work, though that’s a near-term goal (once I get the water off my kidney and start feeling better.)
It may be that it is her destiny to receive many blood transfusions for many years.
If blood carries the spirit, then she is receiving into herself the experiences and feelings and “spirit” of hundreds of different people.
What kind of person emerges from being the recipient of so much human experience?
Amazing. Transformative.
Love and blessings to Adahlia and to you.
And in thanksgiving for this beautiful body, and beautiful, interesting, life.