You may have noticed I'm a complainer.
I don't mean to be. I try not to be self-centred. I try to think before I speak, but I have come to the conclusion (although I'm probably delusional) that I'm a better writer.
Despite my tendency to complain, I know I'm not hard done by at all. I have a good life and I try to remember this, but I fall victim to these things called "emotions." We have them, so we might as well use them, right?
Boychild has another throat infection. His throat is bigger than I've ever seen it. When he talks he sounds as if he's got a sock tied around his tongue. He has missed a bunch of school again.
I did not feel like a good mother when, last night, as I was trying to finish some minor task I heard him whimpering and tossing in his sleep, so I sighed with impatience as I went to him for the third time in an hour. Yeah, like it's been so fun for him.
As I lay beside him, though, and rubbed his back and listened to his breathing change from raggedy sobs to a deeper, even sound, I let go of the things that were pulling me back to my desk and spent some time in the moment (it can be done!). I soaked up the softness of his skin and his handsome features and chocolate-brown eyes. I stroked his hair and thought about the moms and dads out there who have children who are really sick, terminally so. I shouldn't lose patience about a sore throat.
Today I received some news that drove this home - how fragile life is and how we really do need to count our blessings. A friend of mine who lives across the country - too far away to hug - lost her pregnancy at 39 weeks. Everything seemed fine, then suddenly it wasn't. She delivered a stillborn baby girl.
I had two early miscarriages between my first and second child and I thought my heart would break. I was a bundle of nerves when finally pregnant with Girlchild, and at one point went to the hospital when I thought she had been too quiet for too long. I don't know what I would have done if there hadn't been a heartbeat.
For my friend to have been so close to the end of this pregnancy, so much further along in knowing this baby...I can't even imagine the intensity of that pain. My heart goes out to D and her family.
So hold your babies close to your hearts, everyone, and be glad that you can.
5 comments:
Oh, my. I had two also, the first at 21 weeks gestation. I have always thought it must be so much more painful the longer one "knows" the baby. Especially if a decorated, furnished room and clothes were already prepared for baby's arrival. Having to go home to all that after a late loss - I can't imagine. I will pray for your friend and her husband - for healing, and to find joy again, and to have a healthy baby. Do they have any other children, did you say?
I'm so sorry for your friend. I've been really blessed in the healthy pregnancy department, yet I complain the whole way through. I'm afraid it's human nature, but that doesn't mean we can't strive to practice gratitude now and then. Nice post.
Pam: Thanks for your kindness. They have one other child. I've been thinking of them so much.
Betsy: Thanks. Yes, human nature gets the better of us sometimes!
I'm just getting around to reading this now, so this comment is quite late but to lose a baby at 39 weeks. I cannot imagine.
I will stop complaining now.
How's your friend holding up with the loss? Can you tell I'm cathing up tonight on blogs? Not stalking you. Not yet, anyway.
Post a Comment