Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Remnants From Last Night

And every night hereafter indefinitely until doctors say Paxton's heart is well enough to not have to eat every three hours....

(Remember his resting heart rate is nearly 150 beats per minute so as he sleeps he is burning off weight at lightening speed. So eating is crucial to maintaining his plumpness and allowing for surgery number two to take place)

This is the couch at the end of my bed and every morning as sure as the sun rises you will see cushions full of dirty diapers, eaten bottles, empty medication syringes, burp clothes and yes even pukies to which I did not get to cleaning at 3 am. All of which is strewn about in my sleep deprived haze.  What I can say is that, no matter how exhausted I am, I always take those middle of the night feeds to gaze at my little man, rub his head and listen to the noises he makes as he gulps his "ba ba". I never take a moment for granted with him and have actually come to love holding him in the quietness of the early morning hours.  I have begun to have nightmares about his impending surgery. I am scared. I won't lie to you.  I loved Paxton the moment I knew he was in my belly. I loved him even more when I learned how sick he was and how hard he was fighting to be here with us.  I fell in love all over again watching him suffer through so much in the beginning of his life and today there are no words for the closeness I feel with this little boy that lights up when I walk in the room.  I am terrified of losing him.  I know that cannot be the focus and truly during my waking hours it is not. It's at night when things quiet down that I realize the fragility that is his life.  As well as he is doing, he does only have half a heart and that terrifies the living daylights out of me and as we prepare him for another surgery in a mere 60 days give or take, my heart trembles with the what if's.  

I find that I don't mind getting out of bed to get him when he wakes at 5:45.  I bring him to bed with me to listen to him coo, smile and talk.  I find I want to do that last feed at 11:30 pm when I could easily ask my husband (don't get me wrong, sometimes I do). I rush through my "me" time to get back home to him/them.  I love ALL of my babies beyond measure and there's just nothing I would rather be doing than spending time with them. In the midst of wild chaos, swearing I need a break, running on fumes moment I find when I am given that break, I simply want to turn around and come home. Is that weird? Maybe, but I have seen the other side.  I had to learn the fear that possibly not bringing home my baby holds and you never come back from that.  You never forget that life is so precious and no matter the chaos, that you wouldn't change it for the world because the alternative is just unthinkable.

So every morning I giggle as I walk past my couch full of remnants from last night because dangit, my baby is here and we had that time to share together! Isn't life so sweet...

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1 comment:

Lorena M said...

I love it! I think any time a baby is in the home somewhere it looks like that. Whether it be a couch, the floor, the foot of the bed or the night stand, us moms pick a spot and that's where the dirty diapers land and the empty bottles. Once we are fully aware is when we pick up the mess! I just wished I had taken photos of the messes in the middle of the night. I am glad that for the time being Paxton is doing well and has not gotten the cooties that you had, LOL. I swear if I lived near you I would totally come over and help you clean or play with Paxton or whatever you needed. You know maybe you should just move to California, well it's a thought!

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