Things lately have been pretty hectic....to say the least. I have been working all day, going to school at night, and by the time i get home, most nights, all i really wanna do is sit in front of the TV, and indulge in a Criminal Minds marathon, after a LONG, hot bath and a ice cold soda! Most nights I'm struggling to keep my eyes open, and up into my lap climbs a little boy. In his hand, he carries a coloring book and two crayons. Just two. He looks up at me with the most gorgeous brown eyes that i've ever seen and says to me "cower mom". I stop for a second, and weigh my options. On one time, what i wanted to say was "mommy is so tired honey, we'll do it tomorrow"...but then i thought to myself 'what are the odd that tomorrow, i'm not going to be just as tired?" And i looked at him, for a long moment and smiled. Because i realized that this...is what they live for. The time spent with the ones they love. Because right now...that's all they have. So i take the book, climb onto the floor, and we color. After coloring, its time for baths, and jammies, and bed...things that i once took for granted getting to do with them, that i now wish i could do more often. Perhaps i'll have to work on that. Its just so hard finding time when there isnt any...but that's what they need. Even if it's just a little.
This brings me to my next thought. Being a parent...is sometimes pretty damn hard. It starts from the minute you take that test (or hear that your significant other has). I'm Pregnant. Two simple words, which can change your life forever. I believe that each child is a blessing, and happens for a reason. I believe in hope, in miracles, and in faith. I know though, that it can be overwhelming at times, and hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Raising children is HARD. It is. They have to be fed, and clothed and housed, and warm. They want toys, and books and games, and they want those things MOST when you just can't afford them. But I find that when it comes to children, you will always find a way. No matter how hard it is, you always make it happen. Because you have to. Because that little life, relies on you. After nine (well, ten really) months of baby baking (which is ALSO hard work!), you come to the moment of truth-giving birth! One of the most difficult yet rewarding experiences there is. Period. Dot. Decimal. Its an experience all its own, that's for sure. The first time you see that timy little face, those little hands, those tiny feet, and realize that this person BELONGS to you....you are forever changed. You look into their little face and realize that you have NEVER loved like this before, and begin to question IF, in fact, you ever really knew what love was. And then you realize that none of that matters, because this is Real. This is unconditional, and its never going to go away. What could really be better than that? When the troll came into the world, he was greeted by a host of friends and family! And i remember the first time i saw him...he looked like a little gremlin, but damnit, he was MY little gremlin. I had grown him, and nurished him, and loved him, and his little face brought me to tears. Yes, this was MINE, finally someone who would not let me down. My little imp, alternatively made his debut privately...with just me and my mom in the room. He was very early, and very quiet. And i remember thinking the same about him. No one in the world is every going to love me like they do. And no one has yet.
I remember not too long after i had the Imp, and in the times while i was pregnant with him, wondering to myself what my life would be like if i didnt have kids. When the bills got to be more than i could handle, and there just wasnt enough food to feed everyone...i'd get down. And i'd go to that place. The place where life was "simple" and there was just me to take care of. But after that ultrasound where i SAW his heart beating, i saw him moving, and i heard them say "its a boy!", any time i thought about my life without them in it, it didnt feel right. No, instead, it felt decidedly lacking! I mean sure, i'd have more money, i'd have food in the house...i could afford to get my nails and hair done, and be high maintenance...but i'd missing out on THEM. And how could that ever be right? How could any life that doesnt involve them be okay? Its funny the way these things work, because i never realized how completely they would own me, until they did. Those moments when you're covered in throwup, from a particularly long night, running on zero sleep, and trying to get that damn fever down are the times when you feel the most INTENSE love. Its those kisses on a feverish forehead, wiping salty tears away from very upset faces, and soothing a tummy ache by rubbing little bellies. Its running around playing "tag" at the park, birthday parties at chuck e cheese, the first time they learn to swing, slide down the slide, and climb the ladder. Its football in front of the house...and watching them squeal with excitement when they catch it. They're feelings and emotions that you just can't get anywhere else...they're special. And so worth all the trials and tribulations that may accompany them.
If you are fortunate, after that long nine months, you get to take that beautiful baby home...and experience those things. Sometimes though, you dont. And believe me when i say that getting over the death of a child is just something you dont do. And burying that child, going home without her...is the hardest thing you'll ever do. Celebrating a life that was never truly lived is unparalleled. Every day, i look at my wall, full of memories of my Bella girl, and i feel cheated. Angry. Hurt. Why did GOd bless me with this gift, if only to take it from me...it always seems so unfair. And then i feel guilt. Why didnt i try harder, why didnt i fight harder? Why didnt i MAKE them keep a closer eye on her, on me? Why didnt i MAKE them admit me...to take care of her? Why did i hang my head, and give up so easily on something that i wanted to so badly? That guilt follows me everywhere i go...and i long to join her again...so i can be relieved of it. There are times, caught up in the grief, that i think i'll never recover...because i miss her just that much. She was something i'd always wanted, and hoped for....and i lost her. And i can't help but think that there was something i could have done differently. Its hard to walk away from that. But at some point...amidst all the guilt, i look at my two boys, and i remember hope. I see them and i tell myself that with everything else in life that is hard, loving them is ALWAYS easy.
And this, i guess...is what it means to be a parent.
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