The Bitter

  Now, that I've told you about the Sweet, let me tell you about the Bitter.  I've got a wicked tension headache, I miss my kids, I'm stressed about getting my grades in, and I'm worried about my sister. 

  At age 8 my Mom decided she no longer wanted to be married and moved out (and away - like far away - like from Colorado to Maryland).  My stepfather raised Amber from that point as a single Dad.  He did a fantastic job, if you know what matters: love and being there.  He ADORED Amber.  He DOTED on Amber.  He took her everywhere (he once took her to Lake Baikal by BUS).  He coached softball, drove her to piano and violin, encouraged her in school - where she later earned a degree in Geography.  Maybe the whole 3 meals a day thing and put on your coat thing wasn't there - but he raised her.  For high school they moved back to rural Oklahoma where they lived on the same property as his elderly mother.  We all celebrated her high school graduation together in June of 1998. 

  In August she started college at OSU.  In September Dan had a massive stroke and died.  I drove to the funeral with Amber.  She didn't cry, at least not in front of me.  She didn't quit school either, not even for a semester.  She graduated in 4 years and moved to Minnesota where the cousin of a friend helped her find a job as a waitress.  She continued to take classes (in Biology, Chemistry, etc.) in order to prepare for her application to medical school.  She hopes one day to work as a Physician's Assistant. 

  She married Alejandro (Alex), an immigrant from Mexico and pursued a job as a Pharmacy Tech in a medical clinic where her fluent Spanish is a great asset.  When Amber was 7 months pregnant with Diego, Alex travelled to Mexico to complete the paperwork for U.S. Immigration.  While he was gone Amber went into pre-term labor and delivered Diego 8 weeks early.  Alex was unable to return, first because of paperwork, but later because of the Swine Flu.  He didn't have it ... but no one, not even someone whose wife had just given birth to a premature infant and was alone, could leave.  So Diego spent 30 days in the NICU and Amber took him home alone.  No 'Bringing Home Baby' to the annoying mother in law/neighborhood barbeque here.  Diego is FINE now, totally FINE - he's thriving. 

  But I think she really wanted to be able to give birth to a baby that she could nurse (Diego was fed through a feeding tube through his nose), and hold, etc. I wanted that for her.  And now this.  Her sweet baby girl is struggling.  And we don't know anything.  She finally sees the perinatologist and pediatric neurosurgeon tomorrow.  No one appears to be in any particular rush to help Amber or her baby, she's spending a riduculous amount of time making sure Doctor A filled out Form 227 so that Doctor B can order Test 23 ... but oops, Doctor C forgot to write something in the chart so we have to call his nurse first ...  Friday we should know the extent of the brain bleed and hydrocephalus.  We should know what the plan is.  We should know what the prognosis is (at least more than we know now).  So that's the Bitter.