On Rushing Spring and Healing

Its March 13. At least I hope I’m not a week off. I haven’t looked at a calender in days and gave up adding or subtracting to March 5 since that was my birthday and I actually remember my birthday even if I don’t keep track of how old I’m getting.

Please tell me I’m not the only one that uses their birthday as a mental time anchor.

Just when I thought I might run away as far South as possible, the sun came out and the snow began to melt.

And me, the girl who actually likes snow, knew that this winter really truly has been a hard one.

I’m sitting in my living room with the morning sun streaming across the hardwood floor, listening to Enya and Kyrell’s breathing.

Feeling can be hard for me.

I was that brave mommy that powered through her child’s sickness and kept her chin up and her mind occupied because I had to be brave and strong and as sane as possible for my daughter. I was her voice and her advocate and her home base.

Having Ky had brought back so many emotions that only a baby can bring. Its hard to know exactly how to articulate my thoughts. While Ky is totally his own person and celebrated for who HE IS, he also triggers so many memories.

As most of you know, he was born with a deformed voice box which caused respiratory issues and reflux which has majorly improved with surgery.

He just received a great thumbs up on his progress last week and we are truly grateful.

This week he is sick with RSV. So far we have been able to care for him at home but the fevers, the choking on great gobs of mucus, the coughing so hard that he loses all control of his body, it all reminds me of caring for his sister.

Six years ago, we were in and out of the hospital with her. She never seemed to bounce out of her bout with RSV that spring.

It was well into the summer before she was feeling truly well again. And by then, we had moved across country with her.

She loved resting with her Daddy in the gentle sunlight.

Your body doesn’t forget. Brains are a complex system and triggers can cause amazing feats as well as irrational fear.

I watched Ky breathing the other night, burning with fever and breathing rapid shallow breathes and I suddenly was back in the ER with Kierra and having her decline so rapidly and hearing the Dr say that kids wear out so fast when their respirations are 60 breathes a minute.

I had to firmly tell myself that Ky is not Kierra. That he is strong. I had to force myself to open a window and allow the night air to wash over his sick body. The fever reduced and his breathing became much better but my heart felt weak and spent.

I held him all night last night so he could sleep. This morning, my body is still on high alert. I’m actually not tired. Part of it is a pycologial thing and part of it is because I am healthier then ever because I have been making sure my body gets the nutrition it needs to function properly.

Now before you think I’m amazing, let me tell you a little secret.

I’ve got this big fear.

I saved Kierra’s suction machine because it is so priceless when you have a child with respiratory issues. I was so grateful for it with Kierra and it went with us all over the place. It was the norm and I was fine with it.

Its been sitting on the shelf for 4 years.

I know in my heart that I should most likely use it to do some deep suctioning on Ky. But there’s a part of me that shuts down at the thought. My heart starts racing and my legs turn to jelly.

I’m not sure what to do with all the emotion I feel about it. I do know that unless Ky really truly needs it, I’m going to allow myself to feel that apprehension. I’m going to allow that machine to just stay tucked away.

I’m not going to shake myself into some straight jacket and force my mind to turn off and go get that black case down unless it is really necessary.

There are times when you need to shove fear aside and ‘just did it’ because there ARE no other options.

Thats ok! That’s bravery.

But today, I’m going to be a different kind of brave. I am going to give myself space and time to acknowledge that RSV is rotten . That crackly breathing puts me into over drive. That sittting here trying to decide if I’m overly paranoid for calling the Dr again doesn’t make me a helicopter mom.

That someday I may be brave enough to pull out the suction. Until then, its not going anywhere.

That forcing myself to heal and comply is wildly unhealthy and will produce no lasting results.

So I’ll sit here and hold Ky. I’ll drink my hot coffee (its actually cold by now) and listen to Enya and allow the sun to do it’s magic in my house. And I won’t rush the process.

Because rushing spring can freeze the buds and wilt the blossoms. Beauty is a process in nature. And in our hearts.

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4 thoughts on “On Rushing Spring and Healing

  1. I remember when my youngest was in the hospital with RSV and feeling so powerless. I went back to an earlier post too and I wish I had any sufficient words to say how sorry I am. I don’t even want to put cliches here but I just have to tell you this post is incredible. The fact that you can write this, as you are in a complete landline of triggers: you’re not just brave. You’re not just a good mom. You’re a superwoman. I have so much respect for you from across the blogosphere and please keep taking care of your beautiful self. I’m sending you lots of love and well wishes. I hope Ky bounces back quickly. ❤️

    • Thanks so much for these words! I somehow missed your message until now. But today I needed to read these words. So so much! Thank you for encouraging my heart!

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