Today I am feeling grateful.
Gratitude was not what I expected today.
In fact if someone would have told me
last night when I fell asleep, that being awakened at
1:21, 2:56, 3:30 and finally around 5:00 a.m. would have made my heart swell with thanks,
I would have called that person crazy.
It started yesterday morning.
Samantha woke up coughing.
My intuition recognized that deep, constant, unusually raspy sound.
The kind of cough that makes the hairs on your motherly neck stand up.
Wheezing, fever and red cheeks appeared by lunchtime.
No interest in playing or eating and not a hint of getting into any trouble.
The house stayed clean the entire day.
No drawers were explored, closets stayed closed, no toys were strewn about, no new fingerprints on the windows, no sneaking into my makeup and not one bed in the house was bounced on.
Around 4:00 the doctor confirmed my fears, pneumonia.
That stomach-pit, rapid heartbeat, squeeze-around-the-throat feeling settled over me.
He assured me that she is not sick enough to be hospitalized but that anytime a two year old gets pneumonia, it is a serious concern.
Listening to my baby wheezing and laboring to breathe was wearing me out with worry.
I filled her prescriptions, calmly walked out of the store, got into my car,
put my head on the steering wheel and cried.
As I sat there sobbing, I looked in the rearview mirror. There was Samantha buckled into her car seat, her big glossy eyes peeking back at me.
In my mind's eye, I could see other mothers in other places.
Places where there are no doctors or medicine. Places where earthquakes or wars or famine have taken homes, villages and lives. I thought about what it must feel like to look at your child, their big, glossy eyes looking back at you, and feeling helpless. My heart ached for those mothers.
We got home and I filled the bath tub with warm, soapy water. I filled a large cup and let the warm water run down her back over and over. I thought about mothers who had no water to give a thirsty child or bathe a soiled baby.
We gave Samantha her medicine and some chicken soup. I thought about moms whose children needed medicine or food and there wasn't any. What would that feel like to hold a sick and hungry child and not have the resources to help?
I sat by the fire and cradled her in my arms. I thought about moms who didn't have warmth or protection from the weather. Moms who are sleeping in tent cities or worse.
As we tucked Sami in, I knelt by her bed and said a prayer of thanks.
Thanks for doctors and medicine, a warm home and plenty to eat and drink.
I said that same prayer at 1:21, 2:56, 3:30 and somewhere around 5:00 a.m.
God bless mothers everywhere.
PS For more information on helping The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints
with their relief effort in Haiti, click here.
7 comments:
I hope Samantha can recover quickly. We missed her today. We'll have to give your tutu back next time.
Your post made me cry. I agree....we are more lucky than we realize. I hope your little girl feels better soon.
Mmmm. Perspective. It's a gift. Hold on tight to it. Our prayers are with Sam and her brave, wonderful momma.
Kim- I often feel the same way. When Cal had the same illness last year, I just felt so grateful that we have access to doctors, and hospitals, and oxygen. It's chilling to think that something so treatable to us is deadly to others simply because of geography. We are so blessed and we often forget that. Thanks for the reminder. I needed it!
So true. Sorry Sam is sick. I hope the tourney goes well:). Good luck Lincoln!
I hope Sam is feeling better already (and that you are too).
That stinks! John had it last summer and although he's not my child I still worried :). It's never a good thing. Keep us posted when she's better.
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