Have I ever mentioned that I hate the color blue? I do. I hate, hate, hate blue.
It is such a shame because blue was always my favorite color. Except for the 8 years I lived in dorms and apartments, I have always had a blue bedroom. I would buy most of my clothes in blue.
Then DQ, my blue baby, was born. Blue now means lack of oxygen. It means a sick child.
DQ is not supposed to turn blue any more. She was fixed and revised. No more blue is what they told me. But she is blue. Her fingers and lips turn blue frequently. And no matter how many times the cardiologist tells me it shouldn't be happening, it is.
DQ is getting worse. She wakes up more swollen each day. Her fingers turn blue more frequently. I am constantly stopping her, grabbing her hands and looking at her fingers. I hold her close to feel her heart rate. I am petrified. We were told there was nothing more to be done. Yet, she is getting sicker. What does that mean?
And all the while, I have people left and right telling me she looks great. I've heard it from about 5 different people in the last couple of weeks alone. Heart disease isn't obvious. It is a silent killer. It lurks beneath.
But I see it. I watch my baby so closely. I know she is getting worse. She is blue. I hate blue.