Seperation Anxiety

I've been in a funk as of late, had one of those weeks, I almost want to say one of those years! But I won't be that extreme. I've also been thinking of another f word and it isn't funk, but I won't go there.
Yeah, it's been one of those weeks and I forgot to safeguard my heart. The unoffendable heart is definately absent this week. So hear it goes, my heartache, my frustration, my anger or self-preservation. Someone said something without thinking 4 days ago and I'm still reeling.
Caleb has just started having seperation anxiety and secretly I love it! No, not the tears or his fear, but that he recognizes and needs me. I was explaining to a friend my new wave of exhaustion due to Caleb's anxiety. Then she spoke, (without filtering) “That's great. I guess he doesn't have mental defects then." I smiled, nodded, and walked away. On the inside I was insulted and infuriated and brokenhearted. Finally, a normal developmental milestone I could relate and share in this stage without all the extra preemie explanations. I could feel like a normal mom again, well as normal as I could ever be. But my normalcy was short-lived and I am still in a funk.
I realize my friend was just trying to be encouraging but she missed the mark. I know people often say the wrong thing in the name of kindness. I have even done that but that isn't very soothing when you are in the midst of an offense.
Words, reality, unknown fears, all of this heavy on my mind instead of just enjoying the feeling of being needed and missed.
Don't worry I do have some perspective, Caleb is my forth child. Soon enough his crying and need for my attention will produce my own anxiety; the everybody just go to bed bedtime anxiety. But for now there is a sweet delight in knowing my baby wants me, NEEDS me. So I work on extending grace to others and embracing our own new family normal. I also work on rejecting fears and negativety. Goodbye funk, no more f words for me.

I love Erma Bombeck, I have read her stuf since high school.  I remember once when CC was a baby, I checked out every book the library had that was authored by her.  I laughed and cried and filed away so many great tips and anectodes.  Recently this writing by her came across my path again and although it stings a little it also rings with truth for me.  I hope by posting it you get a little more insight into my mother's heart and also find a deeper appreciation for a great writer.

THE SPECIAL MOTHER by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit.  This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen?

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting His instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, he instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"Armstrong, Beth: son. Patron saint, Matthew. Forest, Marjorie: daughter; patron saint Cecilia.

"Rutledge, Carrie: twins. Patron saint....give her Gerard. He's used to profanity.

"Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a handicapped child.

"The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."

"Exactly," says God. "Could I give a child with a handicap to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But does she have patience?" asks the angel.

"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it."

"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."

God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps. "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied."

"She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations."

"I will permit her to see clearly the things I see- ignorance, cruelty, prejudice- and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."

"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air.

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice

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I am waiting for the miracle of hearing my son say, "Momma"  or "Dadda"  or anything.  I am waiting for those first steps.  I think I go back and forth between shock and disappointment to self-loving and self-loathing.  But I can also say I see small things with such a spirit of gratitude and accomplishment nowdays.  I am no where close to a patron saint and I havent even fully accepted or adapted to my role as a special needs mom.  But I love how the author states "she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."  I have been trusted with the lives of precious children and I do view it as my life's work.  I try to do it well, with humor and grace and love.  I definately do not always succeed but I am examining this new word, CAPABLE.  I am trying it on, seeing how it feels, making a few adjustments but I think I am going to go with it. 

Hold On

     As a wife and a mother of four children, I often feel as though I am saying, "Hold on." Just today I probably said it ten times in the span of a few hours. With homework, dinner prep and clean up, pet duties, and a baby wanting his demands met immediately, that phrase was used repeatedly, sometimes mumbled, sometimes almost shouted; as one child calls out for toilet paper down the hall, the other has a question about her math homework. Next, a dog barking for his piece of dinner as a husband searches for a lost sock needed desperately that evening. Perhaps I should have a t-shirt made with these words but then how would the person on the phone and the person ringing the doorbell hear me? Crazy chaos is my life at times, and that is just in the daily shuffle. My mantra of "Hold on" has helped hold off the chaos or helped to manage it at least. As long as one hears hold on, they know his or her needs will at some point be met and disaster and freak outs are sometimes avoided. I know at times my children and my husband, even the dog and cat, dont want to hear my requests to wait. They dont want their immediate need shelved or not prioritized. And at moments it is hard to determine which person, which need gets answered first. The need for toilet paper? A basic need but it is keeping my four year old confined and sitting still, it can wait a minute. The need to feed the barking dog or answer the perfectionist child on the verge of homework meltdown; the need to find the sock or let the husband remain sockless and perhaps learn to not ball his socks up and throw them under the bed?  Which need do you answer first?  Yes, some things I guess already have a priority spotlight!

     For me though, in the last year of my life, of my mothering and marriage relationship, I have learned an even deeper aspect of "Hold On."   My needs were bigger than a roll of toilet paper or a minute's peace to answer the phone. My sweet precious baby son fought to survive and grow. My lovely daughters struggled to cope without parents physically with them. My husband and I had to wait to hold our son, care for our son. We also had to wait to visit him, and wait to hear of his diagnosis and test results. We also had to wait to see if he would respond to medicines. At times, we even had to wait to see if he would live, if he would survive the next minute, the next hour, the night, the weekend. At moments we watched as machines breathed for him, as donated blood flowed into him, as others tried to revive him. In those moments, it seemed as time stood still. The moments when we prayed, "Breathe Caleb, heart  beat, platelets produce, stomach please work." In those moments we had to hold on. Hold on and wait as time slowly ticked, as moments became hours and days. And also hold on to more unexplainable yet tangible things. Holding on to the promises of God for a son, holding on to the hope of a God who heals, holding on to a faith that sustains, holding on to a belief in modern day medicine, holding on to the peace that a greater power, a loving creator God is in control. Those lessons were not easy, and sometimes I still chafe at how I had to learn those lessons. But the end result, the outcome for me is a beautiful work in progress. I can say, "Hold on a minute to my children,"  but I can also say, "Hold on to God."  No, I dont think God is going to drop a roll of toilet paper out of the sky. Wouldnt that just scare the cr#* out of you! But I do believe He still provides peace and hope and fortitude and many every day blessings and guidance. So each day I try to hold on to those things. I will let you know if ever the toilet paper drops too!