I just recently found out that an old friend of mine from high school just had a 24 week-old preemie. She is in the fight of her life right now, and only a miracle of God will heal her and give her a chance at life past these next few terrifying weeks. Her parents are putting all of their faith in the healing powers of the Lord, and they are asking for Prayer Warriors around the world to do the same and send up words of comfort and healing for their Emilie Grace each day.
I was crushed to hear about their news. I think it was three-fold. First, it is so sad to hear of any child entering into this world in a fight for his/her life. Second, it's always saddening and heartbreaking to hear of struggles your friends (and family) are enduring. Lastly, as a mother, I feel attached to "motherly" things ... babies, for one. To think of a child ... like my child in every way ... being born with such difficulties ahead. My motherly-heart breaks and yearns for this sweet baby girl.
All of this has made me stop to reflect upon my own life and daily situations. Lately, I have been feeling a disconnect between me and my son. Nothing that isn't the usual "what is going on here ... my child turned 3 ... where did my sweet child go?" He is finding his own personality ... coming into this own by pushing boundaries ... and growing through a typical toddler stage. But he was the PERFECT baby. Okay, every mother says that about their kid. I get that. But he felt like the perfect baby ... to me and his Dad. He slept through the night--12 hours--by just before 3 months (and never looked back)! He ate well. He was kind ... so kind and sensitive to everyone else's feelings. He was so laid back and relaxed most of the time. He shared without question. He loved ... and loved everyone. He had such a sweet, sensitive demeanor. He never said, "NO, MOMMY!" He never said, "BUT I DON'T WANT TO!" Okay, so he wasn't perfect ... he did throw the occasional fit, but it was cuter back then, somehow. He was so little, and he would get frustrated and say, "Throw myself down!" (as he would lay down on the floor) or "Run away!" (as he would run into the other room). The funniest part about that was his voice inflection. He didn't have the "I'm throwing a fit" sound in his voice. He didn't scream it, or wail and shed tears about his fit ... he just simply stated it as a fact. Then ... he turned 3. It's like a light switched clicked inside of his brain! Just when I thought he wasn't going to experience the "typical" terrible twos ... he goes and has the terrible threes!
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| My Buddy ... I sure love this kid! And I am so thankful for him each day! |
I really lamented for myself. I felt like he would never grow out of this new challenging stage. I longed for my dear, sweet child ... the boy who always followed directions and rarely challenged what Mommy and Daddy told him to do. Every now and again, God throws in a peek of that boy for me. Here are a few examples that remind me he's in there ... he's just growing and changing and learning.
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Last week, he woke up one night at 2:00 a.m. He did the "sneak into our room" trick. The problem is that a three year-old is anything but sneaky! I have become a lighter sleeper since becoming a mother. I guess it comes with the territory ... I used to be a lead sleeper (I hope to join those ranks again, someday). I woke to the sound of little feet on the carpet. Who knew something so little could make the sound of a T-Rex walking on carpet!?! It's incredible! He is definitely not part Native American! He would rustle up every animal in the forest. Anyway, I hear him walking ... and his breathing (he is quite a heavy breather, too). I tell him go to back to bed. He denies my request. I take him back to his room, and I sing to him. 30 minutes later ... he seems asleep. I go back to my bed. T-Rex returns to our room within minutes. Argh! I take him back to his room. I sit there. He stares at me. I rub his back. He flips from side to side. Finally, he seems to be asleep. I sit there for a few more minutes (an hour and a half has elapsed from the first initial waking). His little hand shoots out from under the covers and touches my knee (NO! He's not asleep! I am frustrated.). He says to me softly, "Mommy, I love you. Thank you for staying with me!" And suddenly, I feel so many emotions. I feel EXTREME and DEEP love for this perfect boy. I feel embarrassment and guilt for being so frustrated by him. I feel sadness that these times are not forever. I feel tired ... and want to go to bed.
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Two days ago, I went to a MOMs Night Out event with my MOMs Club friends. We had dinner together at a local restaurant. There is something so peaceful about eating at a restaurant with other adults ... sans your kids! Billy watched the kids and put the kids them to bed. I had a great 3 and a half hour meal chatting with friends. I hadn't heard anything from Billy, so I assumed all went as it usually does. I walked into the house from the garage ... made my way through the laundry room, and as I opened the door into the kitchen, I stood face-to-face with my son. "Hello?" I said to him. I confusedly looked around to see if Billy had been duped by him and was crashed out asleep on the couch. But he was awake! Colton then says to me, "Mommy, will you rock me and sings me songs?" I asked Billy what was going on. "He has been coming out of his room every five minutes for the past two hours. I can't seem to get him to go to bed. He wants to see you." I took Colton into his room, and I sat on the rocking chair that my Mom and Dad rocked me in ... the same chair I first rocked Colton in three years ago. His big, old toddler body doesn't fit upon my lap the way he once cradled in my arms. I sang five songs to him. After I was done, I gave him a kiss, and I told him goodnight. As I was laying him in his bed, he said to me, "Mommy, I am just so tired." I left his room, and I told Billy what he had said. He told me, "Of course, he's tired! He's been exhausted all night. He just couldn't go to sleep until you got home to rock him. Every five minutes, he would come out and say to me ... 'Did you hear the garage door? Is Mommy home, yet?'" That melted my heart ... he is still Mommy's little guy.
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Then I hear the news my friend and his wife are facing ... the challenges ahead ... the decisions ... the faith ... the heartbreak ... the hope ... the longing. I am filled with feelings of ridiculousness. How could I be so selfish!?! I hold my baby boy EVERY NIGHT and rock him to sleep. I get the privilege of hearing his thunder footsteps on the carpet and feeling the tap, tap, tap of his finger as he whispers that he needs to use the potty. It sure makes every fit he throws, every back-talk statement he udders, every "I'm-not-listening" moment of each day seem inconsequential. These moments of our lives are fleeting. All too soon, he will be graduating from high school ... college ... getting married ... having babies ... and then I will be saying to myself, "Where did the time go? I sure miss that little three year-old boy!" I have found that every challenge he has presented since I have found out about my friend's struggle has diminished in importance. I no longer get as frustrated. I no longer feel as disconnected. I no longer fight to keep my sanity. I no longer let it ruin what I am experiencing each day with my child. I have two healthy, happy children whom God has given me each day with which to live life to the fullest. I pray each day and thank the Lord for my two babies ... for my rotten times and for my sweet times ... I am thankful. I am blessed. Thank you, Lord.
If you want to learn more about my friend and his wife and the trials they are facing with their baby girl, Emilie Grace, please follow this link (Emilie Grace: A Journey of Faith) to their website chronicling the journey they are facing as God leads in their lives ... and whatever you do, please pray for them.
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