Friday, April 2, 2010

I'm in love!

Yes I am in love with Ashley's post! How does this girl word things so wonderfully? Love it, so totally and completely true! No, I don't have kids yet, but I've had foster kids!

Part of this article-
Don't Treat Them Like They Are Ignorant
For some reason, some people seem to think that infertility causes a person to become unrealistic about the responsibilities of parenthood. I don't follow the logic, but several people told me that I wouldn't ache for a baby so much if I appreciated how much responsibility was involved in parenting.

Let's face it-no one can fully appreciate the responsibilities involved in parenting until they are, themselves, parents. That is true whether you successfully conceived after one month or after 10 years. The length of time you spend waiting for that baby does not factor in to your appreciation of responsibility. If anything, people who have been trying to become pregnant longer have had more time to think about those responsibilities. They have also probably been around lots of babies as their friends started their families.

Perhaps part of what fuels this perception is that infertile couples have a longer time to "dream" about what being a parent will be like. Like every other couple, we have our fantasies-my child will sleep through the night, would never have a tantrum in public, and will always eat his vegetables. Let us have our fantasies. Those fantasies are some of the few parent-to-be perks that we have-let us have them. You can give us your knowing looks when we discover the truth later.

I explained that the difference between a woman who was able to get pregnant on her own without a whole lot of effort and the one who went through the pain of infertility is that the infertile woman goes through motherhood remembering the pain of empty arms.
Nothing that happens as a mother; bad day, sickness, exhaustion, loneliness, frustration, boredom or any of the less-fun parts will ever be as bad as that horrible ache.
We may whine about being tired, about the fact that the trip to the grocery store counts as "me time" or about the whole "haven't slept for eight hours straight in two years" thing


We wouldn't trade it for anything. Period.

Last night, it was put to the test.

After a very long day, I went grocery shopping, skinned my toe in the parking lot, had some other fun drama happening, was beyond exhausted and looked forward to watching "The Big Bang Theory" and then collapsing into bed after a hot shower.

Five minutes into "Big Bang" I heard Julia crying.

"Honey, can you check on her please?" Mike nodded like a champ and got up. He opened the door, turned on the light and came sprinting into the kitchen.

"She threw up."

I jumped off the couch (no small feat for being 30 weeks pregnant) and ran into her room.
She was sitting in the middle of her bed, sobbing and *COVERED* in vomit. As was her bed, pillow, sheets, floor, bunnies (she sleeps with two blanket-bunnies) pacifier and everything in a three foot radius.

I stood there looking at her as she looked up at me and wailed, "Mamma! I gwoss!"
Trying not to cry with her, I yanked her out of bed and turned to Mike.
"Baby or bed?" He looked at the bed and grimaced.
"I'll take the bed. Get her cleaned up."
I thanked him (I was not wanting to try to clean up that mess) and carried her into the bathroom.

I yanked her clothes off and examined her. There was vomit in her hair, her eyebrows, all over her face and arms and even in between her fingers.
I turned the bath on as I tried to clean her up.
She huddled close to me, shaking as the water began to fill the tub. "Bath?" I nodded. "Yeah, Julia's going to have a bath." "NO!!!" She clung to me and began to cry.
I sighed. "Does Julia want Mamma to take a bath with her?" She nodded. "Oh, yes."
So I stripped down, grabbed her and pulled her into the tub. The vomit took forever to get out of her hair and she cuddled close to me as I poured warm water on her shoulders trying to help the chills go away.

After about ten minutes (and several trips to the washing machine on Mike's part later) she was clean and warming up. So we got out, dressed her, re-made her bed with new sheets, gave her some water and put her back to bed.
And repeated the entire process twenty minutes later.

As I sat on the edge of the tub holding my daughter over the toilet bowl, I reflected on my earlier conversation with Jenn.

I was exhausted, I was covered in vomit, it was almost midnight, Mike was saying things like "let her sleep with us" and I had to go visiting teaching in the morning (I had to cancel; we're 90% sure she just ate something that didn't agree with her but since I didn't sleep last night, she puked a good chunk of the night and we aren't 100% sure she's not sick I didn't want to expose her to other kids or babies and let their parents have as much fun as we did.)
Honestly, not the most fun I've ever had in my life.

But would I ever trade this vomit-covered child for the ability to go to bed and sleep eight (or more) straight hours? Would I rather have spent my evening watching mindless tv while the second bedroom stood quiet as an office instead of Julia's room? Would it have been worth the trade-off to sleep next to my husband with my arm wrapped around him instead of sleeping next to a little girl who kept sitting up and kissing both of us on the cheek saying "Wuff you?" Even on the "gwoss"-est of nights, I wouldn't trade it for peace and quiet. I'd rather have vomit in my eyelashes and a little body cuddling close for comfort any day than that horrible ache of empty arms and an overly clean house. Nothing compares to that ache.
And nothing compares to the joy.

Thanks Ashley for this post!!! I needed it today! I was baby-sitting and running errands, listening to music on my phone and the song, "Laughed until we Cried" came one. We used that song just 2 weeks shy of 2 years ago as our way to announce to our family and friends that we were FINALLY expecting. (which we never actually did because I had lost the baby by the time we went to announce it) I then realized, it's April 2, I got pregnant on April 1. Yes an April Fools that pregnancy was indeed! It's been, I just wanna cry kinda day!

1 comment:

Triumph said...

Beautiful post.

I had that vomit experience with my son last night too, and I would not trade it for the world.

Nothing compares yet, to the pain of an aching heart, that wants to hold even a vomit-covered child, so badly