Yesterday I had the most complete scare-of-my-life-so-far. Squish choked... to the point where I frantically called for Robs to get my phone. I've never been so scared in my life. Luckily after several consecutive and deliriously frightening seconds, that God-given reflex kicked in and she started vomiting. No one was around. Robs hadn't heard my request for the phone- and when Squish was once again breathing I let the reflux-reflex sit there. I sank into a chair with Squish and cried. And prayed. And held her. And prayed. It was quiet as I sat there listening to her breathe and for one tiny little bit my world was completely still.
I didn't tell the pirates. (They're not big on scary stories.) Instead I allowed the thoughts to tumble around. We went to the splash pad with cousins, followed by lunch, followed by clean up, followed by popsicles... followed by more play. We turned on the sprinklers and jumped on the trampoline, and when Steve got home I pulled all the weeds out from under our deck, made dinner and went to a birthday party. But by the end of the day my head was firmly planted on that prayer.
That prayer. That prayer, I realized, was pure gratitude. Gratitude for that God-given reflux-reflex. Gratitude for life, in total. Gratitude for Squish. Gratitude for my pirates. Gratitude that I am their mother- and that I am the one watching over them night and day. Gratitude that I want to be their mother- both night and day, because it took a lot of work to find myself happy in that place. And most definitely, an infinite gratitude for God.
Oh sweetheart. How scary. I teared up reading this post, thinking of you going through that. I'm so glad they have you and Steve as their parents.
ReplyDelete