The dishes sit dirty in the sink. The high chair trays still have breakfast on them. But my babies are sleeping and I am compelled to write about the happenings.
Madeleine is adapting, which is hard for Michael and I to watch. We tell her the cast in temporary. We talked to her about the day when it will come off. Tell her about the day when she will walk with her helper leg. How proud we will be. She will join the ranks of her brother and we will have two toddlers.
She is adapting, crawling over five feet at once, trying to stand up- to pull herself up. This barrier has become part of her. Knowing now that her helper leg will be seen in the same way. She will come to depend on it to move, hopefully she will come to see it as an extension of her natural body.
Her swelling in the cast has gone down. I can now put almost my whole hand down the leg shaft. I can reach almost to the front of her knee. Her skin is scaly and rough. I rub her leg and remember how much I miss doing that. My mother always rubbed my legs when I was little as I got "leg aches" so much. It felt so good when I was young that I do it for my children hoping it brings them the same comfort it brought me. Madeleine likes it when I stuff my hand down her cast and rub and itch her left leg. Her eyes will half close and she calms down. I can only imagine how itchy it is inside there. Last night I felt what seemed to be the steri-strips used to close her incision. Michael said it was wires. This freaks me out a bit and I find I am feeling worried to look at my daughter's new leg. I know Michael feels the same.