My Worst Fear

I was going to write about something completely different today - I was going to post (ok, ok - brag) about my boot camp session today. About how I actually dragged myself outside, in 40 degree weather (isn't it May?!) and rain, even though my bed was calling my name. But, to be honest, my mind wasn't "in" boot camp today - it was with a family I've never even met - the Bissing Family. They were just a normal family, living their lives with 6-month-old triplets and an older son, until the bottom fell out of their world one night. Owen, one of the triplets, was found unresponsive and on his stomach in his crib. They got his heart beating again, but the damage to his brain was too extensive, and now his family is setting about the incredibly brave and generous task of donating his organs so other babies can live. This is every parent's worst fear. Be it SIDS related, as this appears to be, or some horrible accident, or an illness that takes your child - this is the fear that parents live with - something happening to your child.

I will be the first to admit it - I am scared silly about SIDS. As much as CHD and childhood cancer scare me, SIDS does as well. When I was in high school, my cousin lost her precious baby boy to SIDS. I will never forget his wake and funeral. When Drew was born, we bought the Angel Care monitor, which measures his breathing with a sensor and sets off an alarm if there isn't any movement for 10 seconds or so. It went off once, and after we determined Drew was fine (it took a bit because he was really sleeping), I completely lost it. When he was diagnosed with his CHDs, I asked the cardiologist about SIDS. She assured me this would not increase his risk for a SIDS related death, and I tried to believe her.

I am sure many people wonder "why does she read this stuff? it's so depressing." I don't have an answer for that. And it IS depressing. But maybe I read it to remind myself of what I have - two healthy boys - and to never take that for granted. Maybe I read it to share in a mother's grief and support her from afar, because only another mother can understand the love we bear our children. Maybe I read it to remind me to not get caught up in the everyday "stuff" - the acting out, the middle of the night feedings, the being pulled in 9 million directions when all I want to do is sit still...and just be grateful. Be grateful that I have a child healthy enough to be defiant - remembering that I prayed he would grow strong and healthy - and let some of it go. Be grateful that my baby CAN wake me up in the middle of the night. Be grateful I am insanely busy because it means my boys are here to keep me busy.

So, no. Today I am not going to write about boot camp. Not when I was up nearly all night thinking about Owen, and his family, and wondering how Emmett was doing in his crib and if the Angel Care monitor was working. Not when, after my shower, I was greeted by big smiles from my little man. Not when I got to snuggle in bed with him while we waited for his big brother to wake up, and fell asleep for a bit, then woke up to his smiling face. Not when I listen to Drew playing his "monkey game" in the other room and sniffling as he breathes because of his cold. Not when he is making up numbers - "Five-teen Momma!" All of this reminds me to be grateful - I have a great life - and that life is precious and meant to be cherished.

(If you want to read about Owen and his family, please visit his mom's blog - http://bissingfamily.wordpress.com)