How I Became Better at Being Me?
I can't believe that tomorrow is Halloween. I can't believe that tomorrow is ending this Challenge to flood you with Awareness for Down syndrome! But tomorrow always comes. I can remember in the hospital after having Bradley my battered heart wasn't sure which way was up and what step to take next. Everyone said to sleep of course, sleep when the baby sleeps. And I would try and fail...until I looked up at this clock in my room, it was the exact same clock I had at home; and I sat in the silence of the room listening to the steady breathing coming from Eric, and the soft breaths from the baby beside me; I watched the clock. To try and sleep, I would count the babies breaths until I realized my fear for him was amplified with every concentrated thought I put on him. By counting his breaths to help me sleep I was taking myself further from it, and making myself a nervous wreck at the same time. So I figured it would be better to let him sleep and think of other sheep to count; yeah but my sheep always have too much activity when I try to count them. I've never been able to do that, count sheep. I've always wondered about the lives of the sheep and would eventually fall asleep coming up with some wild adventure that I wanted to write about that didn't necessarily include sheep at all. But that January, in the midst of the confusion and worry; I couldn't come up with a story to write out in my head. By not knowing enough about my little baby, I couldn't devise an adventure for him in my imagination. Or rather, I tried but had the same effect on myself that I'd had counting his breaths. I'd put him on the ball field, then would put him on the sideline. Then I'd take and put him in school, but couldn't figure out what year, what age... what anything. And I was just as terrible at projecting his baby face into a big kid, or a teen-ager as I was with the girls. Like I did with Madison, when all I could see was her seven year old self calling home from College, then hanging up and running off to do adult things...well, here was this hours old baby that I was trying to do the same thingwith. It was literally sending me around the bend.
So I counted clock ticks. Yep, you read that right. The clock in the hospital room was doing the very thing that I can hear this clock here in our living room doing now, ticking...not loudly at all, but when you listen for it - you hear it perfectly. So I turned out the lights, and lay on my side facing Bradley's clear, plastic crib, and I breathed slowly and counted the ticks of the clock. I don't remember how high I got in the tick counts, I just know that eventually I would go to sleep and wake whenever a Nurse came in the room, or he needed to nurse...or whatever. And whenever it was time for me to sleep, this was how I did it - I counted clock ticks and didn't worry about thinking at all.
When we moved from Japan we stayed with my Dad for almost six months, and there was so much worry as Bradley's health started its slow decline south and for months and months I couldn't sleep well because I didn't have my clock to listen to at night, and we had a lot of worries. But Eric was with me daily and I didn't have to do anything solo, until he started his new job the next January - we were able to do everything together for Bradley. That gave us both a little more confidence, a lot more experience in the world of medicine and that prepared us for the journey ahead. We found a bagel shop we liked and we'd go in and have bagels and coffee a couple times a week when the girls were at school; it felt like dating again, only this time with a baby in tow. We needed one of us at work somewhere, but we sure enjoyed being together in those little moments. I miss them now, and I knew then I would...and because I was confident that one of us would get work soon; I would tell him, we're going to miss these bagel shop mornings! See there, I was right about that one.
Never think that life is not full of irony. You see I don't have a clock to tick away in my bedroom, I didn't even bother to hang it up because by the time we got into our own place, Bradley wasn't all that healthy so instead of thinking he was doing so well I'd be taking less trips to San Diego - I was taking more. Guess who started falling sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow? Yep, me. The trips didn't stop until the button was put in, and then sleep was a mere illusion and an occasional suggestion anyway. I've come along way since I delivered Bradley, and one more of those wonderful life experiences we've been given is this: sleep when, where, and however long you can. There are times now that I hit the pillow and fall asleep before I get my good night kiss from Eric. I have to literally sit up in bed, or lean on an elbow till he turns the light out, just so I'll be awake and remember my kiss. As it is, there are times he'll kiss me good-bye in the morning and I won't have memory of it, or move. Poor guy! But make no mistake, that little boy breathes different, or that machine gives a beep and I am up and running down the hall. And it's not just him, I hear Madison talking to somebody in her sleep and I'm off to hear if she's yelling at her sister or confessing her heart to a boy; both of which are common. Sydney? Surprisingly, she doesn't make much of a sound, night time is the only time you don't hear a peep out of her. If she wakes up she's standing beside me, slapping me on the back and scaring the crap out of me - no joke!
It's amazing how life changes you to accommodate the life you have to lead. I was a good mom when it was just the girls. If I am better now, it is only because Bradley needed a better mom than I was. If I am better now, it is because the girls needed me to be more than I was in order to be mom to all three of my oreos. Your kids make you the parent they need you to be; if you love them like you should, they'll shape you and teach you how to be more than you thought you could be. The teach us how to be better at being ourselves.
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