Sunday, January 17, 2010

I could be missing this.

A few days ago, MckMama wrote this post.  If you don't follow her, and even if you don't agree with things she says or does, go read this post.  It made tears roll down my face harder than anything has in a long time.  At first I thought it was just my being a mom that made me relate to her and her feelings about her babies.  As I think more about it, I think it runs even deeper than that for me.

I feel that I have been blessed with an incredible amount of patience that works for me both in my job and in my life as a wife and mother.  I have a great ability to look on the bright side and can almost always find a positive spin on any given situation.  I remember when I was pregnant and afraid of losing the baby (as I have learned all new moms are) I knew I would be forever grateful for the experience of having this baby grow inside me even if I never got to meet him or her.  Even though this positive outlook comes somewhat naturally for me, I do feel that there was a defining moment, much like for MckMama, that made me change the way I look at the things BBZ does.  It happened a little over 6 months ago in a hospital room when N snapped this picture.

When BBZ woke up on 7/10/09 after his surgery, I knew that things would be different for us.  I knew that each milestone would be that much sweeter.  That holidays would feel wholer.  That I would never take and minute, or any second for granted.  Sometimes when we are doing simple things, like playing in the living room or getting ready for a bath I am hit with this feeling that I could be missing this.  I could be without by precious baby who was so ill last summer.  It could have ended much differently, but instead my baby is here.  So when I feel my frustration getting thicker and my patience getting thinner, I remind myself that things could be much different, and I smile while taking a photo for my memory.

I mentioned a few posts ago that BBZ had been waking up in the night for weeks until last week.  I do get irritated about getting up sometimes, but I know there is always a reason and rarely resist going to help sooth him.  As most new moms do I sometimes worry about starting bad habits and making him rely on me to sooth rather than being able to sooth himself.  But he has never been a baby who cannot sooth himself.  Since he was new he has always been the exact opposite.  So when he does wake at night I remind myself of this and go in and nurse him back to sleep.  Occasionally when he wakes right after I have nursed him, N takes a shot at it, but it is almost always necessary for me to nurse him back to sleep.

When he was put on this strong antibiotic for his most recent ear infection, he went back to sleeping all night.  I have to admit, I missed going into his room during the quiet night and snuggling him back to sleep.  The sweet way he waves at me and says "hi" when he is half asleep and we are switching sides.  The way he hums in a sing-songy voice while he waits for the let down.  The feeling of his little body when it relaxes back to sleep after a long drink.  While it may seem a pain to get up with him at night, I have some of the sweetest memories of my baby in his room when the rest of the house is fast asleep, and for those few days I missed it.  *Lucky* for me it only lasted a few days since he has a bad cough again.  Despite my love of the late-night times together, I do know that it really only happens when he doesn't feel well, so for that reason each night I hope he sleeps until daylight.

That day in the hospital I promised never to take one day for granted.  I knew at that moment that I had no control over anything.  That all of the worrying I did about something bad happening wouldn't prevent it.  That every moment from here on out would be even more sweet.  That while I avoid medicine at any cost for me and for my son, he would have died without medical intervention.  That there are many families who take their child to a hospital and have to leave with an empty carseat.  I knew that I would never be the same.  And for that, I am truely grateful.