I think this may have all been a little easier before C was able to articulate things. Last night I noticed that there was fluid leaking around his g-tube button, which meant that I needed to add 1-2 ml of water to the balloon for a tighter fit. He squirmed and whined as I tightened the fit of the g-tube button.
I try not to think too much about the fact that my 2-year-old son has a hole in his belly, where he gets fed through a tube. A hole. In his belly. Tube feedings.
Because if I think about it too much, I need to blink back the hot tears that sting my eyes. My baby has a hole in his belly.
Later, at bedtime, he was looking at his stomach and saying, “Tummy hurt. Tummy hurt, mommy.” I think it was easier before he could tell me that it hurts. Hearing his little voice tell me that it hurts was like having my heart ripped into pieces.
Blinking back tears, I said, “Don’t pick at it, baby. It won’t hurt so much if you don’t pick at it.” I’m not sure if I even believe that, but I don’t know what else to tell him.
He curled up into my arms saying, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Mommy.” He said it to reassure himself, but his words helped me a little bit, too.