No Such Thing As Sweet Dreams

The mind can play dirty, nasty tricks on us. Mine loves to at night, when I am in a deep sleep and have no control over the thoughts that bombard it. I am so very busy during the day that I am able to keep any scary, worrisome thoughts at bay. Only problem is they love to catch up with me at night.  I spent many a nights a wreck while Paxton was still in my belly, but this, now, is just awful. I guess it's because I am so close to my little man now. That's not to say I wasn't bonded with him in utero, I most certainly was, especially after losing Tadem, but now that he spends nearly every minute of the day and night with me, it's a bond I cannot describe.  He lights up when I walk in the room. He calms when I (and Kimmie, his Nana, shall we call her =) holds him.  It's such a bond. So when last night, I was in the deepest sleep and dreamt that my husband was laying on our bathroom floor sobbing and screaming "he's going to die" I cannot describe to you how I felt when I woke.  It seemed so real and my heart was panicking as I remembered how I truly felt like I was in that moment.  While it was just a dream, or nightmare rather, it shakes me to my core.   

So I just run...

And I run because if I don't, I may lose my mind.  I have always been a runner (jogger, really = ), but in all of my years of running, I never knew how it would save me come today.  I am filled to the brim with worry and fear. I try to stay positive, know that what is meant to be will happen, but my hair is still falling out. I still have nightmares nearly every night, that is when I actually sleep. If I sleep I usually wake up from some nasty dream only to lay awake for hours begging God to let me keep my son.  The other day I was ready. Today I am not.  It's a roller coaster.  A roller coaster I don't know that anyone can truly understand unless you are front row on it.  

I mean look at this face:

Anyone, who knows me and knows me well, knows that I am full blown o.b.s.e.s.s.e.d with my kids!  All three of them, but there's something that hangs in the balance when you have a special needs baby. While I know something could happen to any one of my kids on any given day, I know the chances of it happening to Paxton are much greater.  It's hard to hover between positive and scared to death. It's hard to have faith in what's meant to be and what I want.  There are no words really and yet I write. I try to explain what it feels like to do this.  I do it for me. I do it for others that have yet to.  Paxton is amazing and next week we will make the journey to Tampa where I will hand him over so doctors can put him under anesthesia and lead a camera through his groin to look at his half a heart.  Day to day it is what it is, but writing it is such a harsh reality.  He is sick. Strong, but sick. Those closest to us will tell us he is pale, blue and purple looking. Not in a bad way, it's reality.  I am grateful for their honestly. I see it, how could they not. Then again, when we go to playground outside in the fresh air and people gander at him, I see they have no idea.  Imagine looking at such a beautiful baby and never having a clue the story that he holds.  I wonder if they too notice his paleness and don't mention it or if ignorance really is bliss. 

I hate all of this and yet it's the best thing that's ever happened to us.  How is that possible...

Ohhh, this life. Never ceases to amaze me and yet has always prepared me along the way. Such irony. I continue to keep myself as busy as possible. I smother all my babies in Mommy kisses. I find strength where strength is low to take care of them better than I ever have, honestly if that's possible. Not trying to toot my own horn, just can truly say that I give my kids my all! My husband would agree with that any given day of the week.  He says he wants to come back as one of our children. Can't say I would mind either = )

Paxton, in spite of my nerves, continues to do amazing. We have had zero incidences to date since he first came home.  I had fully prepared myself for some emergency trip by now and yet he has other plans. He loves it here at home. Thrives here at home. He is as enamoured with his big brothers as they are with him.

He is at least 16 pounds now.  Alllmoossttt rolling over. Talking up a storm and loudly, guess you have to in a house full of rambunctious boys, yes Paxton you will fit right in.  He has his first two teeth literally just under the surface.  Moved up to a size two diaper.  Is totally in between 3-6 month clothes and 6-12.  The 3-6 are wicked tight and the 6-12, he looks like a drowned rat in.  He has begun eating baby food (thanks Nana Kimmie) and loves, loves, loves it!  Opens his mouth and gobbles it all up.  This is fantastic  because any extra calorie we can pack on him the better!

I make his own baby food and he is pretty thankful. While I have always been organic, I have never done home baby food and I find it hysterical that I am doing it for the third and not the first.  I just learned how freaking easy it is and I feel that Paxton has enough against him toxicity wise, if this is any indication:

Life continues to drop me to my knees, begging for mercy and just as quickly lift me up and remind me of all of my blessings. It's funny how that happens. The times that I feel like I am drowning and will never return are just as powerful as the ones that remind me how incredibly awesome this life is.  I can do this.  Paxton does it every day. I too, can be that strong.  I too, WILL be that strong! For him, for all of us.  

Tonight, when I lay my weary head to rest, whatever dream or nightmare chooses to make its way in will be just that. A dream or a nightmare. 

Sweet sweet dreams my friends. My babies.