Real Big Love February 19, 2015

I knew it was bad when mom started crying too. Well, I knew it was bad before that, but I hoped something magically would happen to bring the madness to an end. Two hours. That is how long it went on today. These awful, piercing, resonating screams reverberated off the walls of my forever home for two hours. But it felt like a lot more than that to me. 

The worst part for mom was the same as the worst part for me. We didn’t know what was wrong. And, at least in cases like this, when you don’t know what’s wrong it’s pretty hard to fix it no matter how badly you want to. So I watched as mom tried every trick in the book. After going through the usual list (making sure he’s not hungry, wet or hurt), she turned it into high gear. She tried changing up the scenery (twice), turned on a few of his favorite shows and movies and played with his favorite toys. He didn’t want to be held but he didn’t want to not be held either.

The screams just kept on coming. And with them, the tears. The sight of mom crying tears of defeat as he screamed is one that was too much for me to bear. I fled for the bedroom after not very long and prayed for peace.

It didn’t come until about an hour later when dad came to the rescue. He came home from that place called work for just a little bit, and the mere sight of him seemed to make Carter relax. I know mom was deeply disappointed by this. I watched as she snuck into the other room to cry quietly. I knew it was bad when mom started crying too. But she refused to let anyone other than me see her disappointment.

Because we both know she wasn’t the failure she felt like in that moment. And in reality, she found the sincerest form of solace that the crying had finally drawn to an end. As I watched this all unfold today, I learned a lesson about love. Sometimes love looks like this. It isn’t always pretty or like you’d picture. But that doesn’t change the fact that it was real big love. And it might take longer than we like sometimes, but that kind of love has a way of bringing even the most painful screams to silence.

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What You Wish For February 12, 2015

It happens with the laundry and the cooking and the cleaning and (as crazy as it sounds) sometimes even the diaper changing.

Sometimes I wish I could help out more around my forever home. It would definitely qualify as something I feel the slightest bit guilty about. And it happens pretty regularly around here, especially since dear baby Carter was born.

I know I help with things like my remarkable charm and the unique ways I find to bring my kind of joy into every day. But I often wish I could do more. 

Most recently it happened last night. After all that talk about the silver lining of exhaustion yesterday, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when the inevitable happened. For no good reason at all, no one slept well around here last night.

The usually sound-sleeping Carter woke four times throughout the night. My theory is twice he just wanted reassurance that mom and dad were there. The other two times he was hungry.

My dear forever mom didn’t sleep well either. I suppose being 22 weeks pregnant might have something to do with that.

And then there’s dad. He doesn’t sleep well when mom doesn’t sleep well. And the crying woke them both up every time. But when it happened at 2:03 a.m., precisely 8 minutes after mom finally fell asleep, it wasn’t even a question.

Dad took care of it. He went and got a bottle ready and grabbed a very upset Carter out of his crib to feed him before mom could get out of bed. I think I may have been as thankful as mom to see it happen, because it was one of those times I wished more than anything I could help.

 

Teamwork. From the ground up, it’s not always easy. I know dad was as tired as the rest of the family in that moment. But that’s how it goes sometimes. And as much as it might bother me that I can’t help around here in more practical ways, I know in my heart I do my part in the ways I can.

I’ll never be able to do the laundry or dishes or help calm a crying baby in the night. But I love my forever family unconditionally and for me at least that will always be enough.