Saturday, July 10, 2010

A Spoon Full of Sugar

The neighbor's dog is barking something viscous and it makes me nervous. I don't think I have heard that dog bark since we moved in over a year ago. I am going to ignore it and put my mind on something else before my mind allows me to go to that scary dark place where people lurk in the night searching for people to wrong and innocence to rob.

(in reference to www.kellehampton.com)
So I read her blog from July 6, and after I read that, I read her blog on the birth of her daughter, Nella... And after I read both, I had a good cry. By good, I mean terrifying. Sometimes it's theraputic to just let the tears fall like rain. However, in my case, it's much more like hail. Hard, downpours of softball size hail... Accompanied with Katrina winds and flash flood warnings.

I do my darnd'est to walk about this journey with a Mary Poppins cheery disposition. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me since March 24, 2010, that I should read her blog I would have at least 72 extra dollars. I knew it would be hard. So I acted like I read it. By acted, I don't mean that I lied. I actually read about a paragraph of her birth and quit. I just couldn't handle it. I couldn't stop crying enough to even focus on the words of my laptop screen. So I ignored everyone after that. Until yesterday, that is.

I want to be transparent. When she spoke of wanting to give her back and take her "perfect" family and run. I felt that feeling. I thought that thought. I remember telling another mother, after many weeks of zero sleep and tear soaked pillows, "I have thought things no mother should ever think. Something is wrong with me." It wasn't that I didn't love her. I loved her too much. Yet, too much is not enough (Thank you, Cyndi Lauper). I was scared. I was hurt. I was mad. I was devastated and greiving. I was in love. I was overwhelmed.

After I read it, with snot dribbling and tears streaming, I ran to her room. Literally stood up and ran. She was sound asleep amidst the zebra print, birds, polka dots and stripes I had specifically made for her so many months before she graced us with her presence. I scooped her up like a giant ball of mint chocolate chip ice cream. (Thanks to my handy dandy experience at Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors) I spoke sweetly into her sleepy ear and I reminded her of how completely amazing she is and how perfect she is just the way she is. I dripped tears all over her and I soaked her shirt with all that was in me. I tried not to hug the life out of her. I succeeded; go me. She eventually woke up and burped a stinky formula burp in my face and I nearly vomitted but I kept loving on her anyway. The entire time I was changing her wet diaper I was talking to her and smiling and crying at the same time. With her still sleepy and probably confused almond shaped eyes she watched a tear roll down my face. I followed her eyes as she followed my tear until it fell off onto her scar. Then she looked at me with a scrunched brow as to let me know I might be scaring her a bit with all my crying so I dried it up as much as I could.

So when I say that she rolls over left and she rolls over right and she rolls from her belly to her back and she rolls from her back to her belly... I am not saying it for bragging rights (like I did with Lake)... It was said because she is a miracle. Every breath she takes, every beat of her newly patched heart is a miracle. I shall never take her for granted. I shall never forget the day she went into Congestive Heart Failure (the words still send shivers down my spine). How my entire being was rocked to the core. I can never allow myself to forget... After all, you can't know where you're going if you don't know where you've been. (Thanks, Tow Mater for those words of rear view mirror wisdom)

Why my God chose me will always be a mystery. I have always believed He gives us little and if we do well with little He will give us more and if we do well with more, He will give us much more. So somewhere along the way, I did something good and I am not sure what it was, but it was enough for Him to increase my pay. Of course I believe this NOW... after I changed. After my heart starting thinking clearly. After I knew she was no longer my lot, but my blessing. I get mad at myself even now, for thinking this was a bad thing... like, I pulled the lottery black dot... let me walk to the center of town and everyone pick up their stone. Let the beating begin.

Now, I may not know why but I do know how truly amazing and sweet as pie she is. I know that she has the sweetest fattest cheeks and I want to gnaw a hole in them, they are so sweet. How every day her sweet as sugar smile lights up the room. How her brother thinks she hung the moon. How her daddy is a changed man. Lady Lennon will forever be a light in a dark world. As her mother, her advocate, I will stop at nothing to make sure no one puts that light out. She will shine like a beacon in the night, bringing joy to anyone who draws near. Her heart will over flow with love and our cups will runneth over.

It felt good to get that cry out. I am not known for holding back. It had just been a while since I had one of those and especially one of those over this. I can go back to being my usual Mary Poppins-ish self.

Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down, in the most delightful way.