Crabby, crabby, crabby. Olivia woke up extremely irritable and has remained that way for most of the day. I ended up calling her eye doctor because her right eye looks just awful. As long as it's not actively bleeding or draining, I guess we're okay. Anyway, nine hours and two naps later, Olivia seems a bit more content.
We met with PT this morning and she cried during the entire visit. She wouldn't even roll over for her. I can't say that any of the exercises that I've done with her have helped. Olivia seems to do things when she feels it's time. Her PT does not believe that her delayed development is anything physical. She should be capable of moving, her mind just hasn't wrapped itself around the idea. I'm supposed to put her through the motions in hope that one day she will get it. I wonder sometimes how much doctors and therapists even know about 23 weekers since they make up such an extremely small percentage of the population. Are we expecting too much for her or not enough? On days like this, I feel defeated. I am dreading the upcoming RSV season as we will have to go back into hibernation (for hopefully the last time.) It's like a dark tunnel that I'm approaching. I'm still struggling with extreme fatigue and being stuck inside the house all winter most likely will not do much to help.