|Holding his own bottle, such a big boy. Nothing is wrong with his head!|
The day we found out that something could potentially be wrong, I was devestated. The mere thought that there was potential for something to be wrong with my miracle baby shook me to my core. I was talking to my mom about it and she said something that really struck a cord with me and perfectly described how I felt in that moment. She said "I feel like I've been holding my breath for you for the past 3 years". It was so true. Between all the infertility stuff we fought through. Then, getting pregnant and having a few scares during my pregnancy (a cyst on his brain, potential gestational diabetes, the preeclampsia). Once my boy was born, there was a murmer scare that resolved itself. Once we brought him home there was the weight loss and the jaundice. It the moment it really felt like that was it. I'm holding my breath constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But, I realize that maybe, it's not waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it's a lesson in strength. My mom always says that I come from "Pioneer Stock" and that I'm strong. I used to not believe it. But, if the past 3 years have taught me anything thing, it's that I do have that pioneer spirit. That I can go through hell and come out the other side stronger. It's sort of empowering to know that I have this inner strength that I never really knew I had.
|A reminder from my mom on the board in my labor & delivery room|
I will say that I may have lost a little of my ability to look on the bright side. After so many disappointments, its easier for me to go into a potentially scary situation (my 4 month old's brain ultrasound for instance) in sort of neutral mode. If I don't get my hopes up, then it's not as far to fall if something is actually wrong. I guess that's the definition of "expect the worst but hope for the best".
I suppose this is what parenting is all about. Holding your breath and expecting the worst but preparing for the best.