I used to be a not right now, in a minute, soon, maybe later, kind of mom.
Being a mom is hard work.
Laundry, bills, grocery shopping, extra curricular activities, cleaning, cooking….
Blah, blah, blah!!!
It IS hard work. But none of the stuff we do is more important than the time we can spend with our children. Every time I said not right now or maybe later (which was a lot!), the message I was sending my boys was “you are not as important as the things I am doing”.
Soon was a regular response I relied on, because it was non-committal. It always bought me time. One day my son wised up and asked me “Mom, when is soon?” Wise words from a 6 year old, but unfortunately they did not startle me out of my mommy zombie land!
Putting my children to bed was when I failed most as a mother.
Every night I was given the gift of bedtime; a time to cuddle, talk about the day, gently tickle their back, sing a soft lullaby, or just lay quietly together holding hands. It’s that special time of day when your presence reassures them that you love them, they matter, they are special, and you’d want to be no where else but right there beside them.
I knew in my heart what was the right thing to do. But by the end of a long day of parenting, my mind and body were tired, and all I wanted was for them to fall asleep so I could be NOT mommy for a few minutes. As I tucked them in each night, they asked the million dollar question….”Will you cuddle Mom?”. It was a risky question, because they never knew which answer they’d get. Sometimes I would crawl onto their bed with great JOY in my heart….but equally as often I would tell them I was simply too tired to cuddle, when the truth was I was just done being a mom for the day!
There are no do-overs. We can’t turn back the clock and replay the past. But life has a way of offering us opportunities to learn big lessons, if we are willing to be students!
My life changed in late February, 2008.
My younger son was just 2 weeks away from his 9th birthday when he suddenly and unexpectedly began experiencing episodes of labored breathing. He was in and out of the emergency room on four separate occasions in three days, each time being treated for the symptoms, and released. Finally, at 9:00 pm on a Saturday night, the emergency room doctor recommended we go to the local children’s hospital.
While being admitted at the Children’s Hospital of the Kings Daughters, Peter began having one of these mysterious episodes. His breathing became labored and his complexion went ghostly white. The worst part was watching the change in his eyes. They remained opened, but became glazed over. There was no life in his eyes. He would look right at you but not respond to any directions or interaction. He appeared to be awake, yet he wasn’t there.
This was the first and only time any doctor actually witnessed the physical changes we had been describing, and they didn’t like what they were seeing. The hospital staff rushed him into an ER room, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. It seemed like an eternity, but within a minute or two the doctor approached me and calmly but urgently recommended immediate intubation to ensure they could assist my little guy with his breathing if the episodes progressed.
They allowed me in the ER room where I stood at his head, softly whispering in his ear that everything would be all right. I gently caressed his face and hair while they administered medication to put him to sleep before continuing with the procedure. Once his eyes closed, they escorted me (because I wouldn’t leave on my own accord) out to the waiting room. Since my guy was home with our older son, I sat alone trying desperately to keep the fear and the tears under control.
The next time I laid eyes on my little guy will be emblazoned in my memory forever. My 85 pound, almost 9 year old, football playing son, was laying in nothing but a diaper on an ICU bed with a tube sticking out of his throat. His body was there, but the Peter-Pie I knew, was no where to be found.
For over 24 hours he lay like that. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with him and hold him. Sadly, that was not allowed in the ICU. So I scooted my chair right up to the edge of his bed and leaned my upper body as close to him as I possibly could.
Time passed so slowly. I retreated to the safety of my cave and became withdrawn, having little to no contact with family or friends during this time. It was just me, my thoughts, and my conversations with God. I prayed, actually I begged and pleaded, for him to give me back my charismatic, joyous, energetic, fun loving, inspirational and wise little boy. I promised him that if he gave him back to me, I would never ever again take him for granted. I would never deny him my time, my attention, my love! I would never again say NO when he asked me to climb into bed with him and cuddle.
After administering every test possible, they couldn’t figure out what had caused the episodes. The doctors discharged our little guy with a diagnosis of reflux. It didn’t make sense, but it doesn’t much matter any more. That was five and a half years ago. Since leaving the hospital four days after he was admitted, Peter has remained healthy.
God kept up his end of the deal!
So did I!
A few weeks after returning home, while Peter and I were laying in his bed cuddling, I told him how sorry I was for all the times I said “No” when he asked me to cuddle in the past. I shared with him my conversation with God. I wanted him to know that I was sorry, and that I learned a BIG lesson. I made him a double promise….that I would never take his presence in my life for granted, and I would never deny either of us the sweet bedtime ritual of cuddling together.
Pete – 3 years old
Pete – 8 1/2 years old
Pete – 14 years old
He tested me over the years. If he saw the slightest bit of hesitation, he was quick to remind me of my promise. I was always grateful for him holding me accountable, because life sometimes gets in the way of our promises.
My little guy started high school this year. It seems the days of crawling into his bed at night to cuddle have come and gone. Instead, now he joins me in my bed. We talk, read or watch television….and sometimes we even sneak in a little cuddle!
I still fight back the tears as I recall the mental anguish and fear I experienced in late February, 2008. But I regularly choose to relive it, to take myself back to that time and place, so I never, ever forget the lesson I learned. It was the silver lining in the scariest time of my life.
It gave me perspective…..
It gave me a second chance….
If you are a maybe later kind of mom (wife, friend, sister, daughter), I hope you’ll consider giving that lifestyle up. There is nothing more important than that time we have with the ones we love. Take not a second of it for granted!
with Joy & Gratitude,
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