Friday, December 12, 2014

The one thing I can control

When it comes to relationships, or even work, I have not had an idyllic life. Failed marriages, a bunch of first dates, I come pretty close to the queen of bad decisions when it comes to men. I'm also in a second career. Despite being desperately in love with teaching history, I'm now in high tech. In a stressful job. All the while I can't help thinking 8 year old me knew best: I should have been a lawyer.

But what has been pretty amazing is my journey with motherhood. I gave birth to my first son, a healthy baby boy, when I was just 25. I got to spend an entire summer with him before I went back to work. He was the most beautiful baby and everyone told me so. My baby Joey was my everyday sidekick. I was warned not to have a second child-- no one could compete with the gorgeousness of baby Jo-Jo. But when I was blessed with my lil man Eddie, I felt my life was perfect. This little boy, almost the exact opposite from his big brother, completed our little trio. The three of us, thick as thieves, were always on the go. Joey was an angel. Eddie adored his big brother. And I was a proud mama of the two most handsome men in the world.

Until I was the proud mama of the FOUR MOST HANDSOME MEN IN THE WORLD. I unexpectedly became pregnant with twins...a blessing...a gift. I was privileged to observe two human beings grow inside of me--and they did it TOGETHER. I saw one human "lick" the other one on an ultrasound. I carried two distinctly different people AT ONCE... And grew to know their relationship before they even left my body. Twin B, a non stop wiggle worm busy body. He kept me up at all hours of the night, as if to say, "Hey mom! Isn't there some place we could be going? Something we could be doing?" Twin A, my little chill baby. He poked me only every once in a while as if to say, "I'm all good, Mom. But don't forget I'm here!"

Their entrance into the world was one of the most traumatic days of my life. Twin B's heart rate went down to 30 bpm. An emergency c-section two months before their due date. But they came. And they cried. And they conquered the NICU. 

And my idyllic journey with motherhood began. Four boys. A set of twins. Curly headed, big brown eyed, caramel colored skinned, dirty hands, playful hearts, skinned knees, super hero and NFL dreaming boys. My life, as a mom, although difficult at times as a single mom, has been everything I could ask for...I am blessed. 

But three weeks ago, that changed. And now, at night, fear grows where there was once joy. My twin A, my Jakey, had a seizure. And the ER felt unsure whether it really was, so they ordered an EEG... Everyone assured me, nothing would be found, Jakey will be fine, things will work out, you will see...but all I saw were the abnormal results of the EEG. 

An MRI is scheduled for today. Friday, December 12th. I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking. I can't stop worrying. I'm sick to my stomach. My baby Jakey sleeps in my bed with me now. He can't be left alone (especially near water). The next three months are important months (he is most at risk for another seizure during this time). He needs an MRI (what if it is abnormal too). 

I can handle break ups. I can handle being let go from my job. I can handle divorce. 

I can't imagine handling bad news about my baby (please oh please God or universe or Buddha or Yahweh let him be healthy). I don't know how other parents have done it and survived (that sounds so cliché). I don't want to learn that I can survive it too (that sounds so selfish, is that okay to say). 

I feel like the last three weeks have been a bad dream. I hold onto my phone tightly all day, wondering when I will be called by Jakey's school to come get him (they've called twice and I go immediately). I sleep next to my baby and well, it's not really sleep because I'm afraid to close my eyes, in fear of missing an episode of some sort throughout the night. I am absolutely sick to my stomach. Later today, I sit and watch his MRI. And then the doctor will call for an urgent appointment if they find something. Or she can call to tell me the results are normal. 

So now I will fear the phone ringing. Again. 

My idyllic journey with motherhood has been shattered. Maybe not completely. But enough that I have realized that anything can happen. That I can't control the outcome of this. That I have to just love my babies hard. That I have to just enjoy his sweet loving face on my chest, as he snuggles up against me as he sleeps in my bed. He is the face I see first thing in the morning. He smiles slyly. He tells me I'm his best friend. 

And then I do then one thing I can control: I tell him he is mine. 

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