Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Mom

So, you know how I said it all felt like make believe? Well, it got real. By it, I mean life. By life I mean, him. By him, I mean my baby, my son, my motherhood. For so long, my life has been like a dream. Half the time I feel like I am playing house. I have an amazing husband that supports us and makes me laugh, I have a beautiful child that brings such joy it makes me want to cry, and sometimes, it just feels too good to be true. So, I relate it to playing house as a kid, where nothing goes wrong and we live in the heartbreak free world of make believe.


Well, my son went to the hospital and I can say it changed me. I no long feel like I am playing the roll of mother. No, I AM HIS MOTHER. I AM A MOM. It was the first time I felt like a real, true to life mother. This may not make sense to you. You may think that birthing a child changes you and makes you a mom. Well, it does, but, my mind didn’t change that much. I fell more in love than I ever have when I held Logan for the first time, I would have died for him, but I felt like a kid still. I can’t explain it, but it all changed when we were left with life and death decisions for my baby, for my life, my heart. 

People ask if it was the scariest time in my life. No. I wasn’t scared. I couldn’t be scared. I had no time for it. I had time only for Logan. I had to fight for him. I had to hold him down, bear hug him just so he would calm down enough to breath. I had to call nurses while alarms sounded. I had to be there, completely and totally for Logan. I had no time to think what ifs. I had no time for fear. 

The only time I let myself break was when we were first told he was sick enough to stay in the hospital, and then again after the worst night of my life. The night he wouldn’t breathe, the night he wouldn’t pee. That next morning I was faced with three choices. All bad, but I chose to sedate my son, and get him fluids by surgically placing an IV into his jugular. They had to escort me out of the room. I broke. I fell. I cried. I no longer had control. I could no longer watch his little chest rise and fall with each breath. I let myself get scared. I let myself think “What IF?” 

Once he received those vital fluids, he began to come back to us. He started to breath. He started to heal. It is amazing what the human body can endure. My boy went through a lot and he recovered. I became super human to help support him. I was a mom. Moms are not super heroes, but we will be for our children. I went three nights with no sleep, I never left his side, but did I feel tired? No. Did I want to be anywhere else? Never. I was there completely. I am not special. I did what any mother would do. I am just amazed at what we are capable of accomplishing.
When we left the hospital (with a skinny but otherwise healthy baby), I stopped to get a drink from our local mom and pop store. A lady I didn’t know asked how Logan was doing. She told me she had been praying. I broke. I fell apart. I sobbed. You know the heaving, can’t breathe crying. I scared this poor lady. After assuring her Logan was okay, I explained, we had just been released and I was exhausted. I got back in the car, unstrapped Logan, and held him and cried. It all hit me, HARD. I could have lost him. The fear came and engulfed me. I let it. I felt like I had earned it. I cried in the parking lot. Then I strapped Logan back in and moved on.
I am a mother. I am no longer pretending. I hope to NEVER go through something like that again, but this I know… Nothing, NOTHING, will ever be too much when it comes to my son. I will always be able to stand up for him and fight! It was horrible, but I learned I can do this. 

On another note, small towns are amazing. The whole community was pulling for my little man and I love our home all the more for its unity!