Saturday, January 8, 2011
Dear Sweet Little Love,
There are things you are going to have to understand.
Mommy is a paramedic(so is Daddy, but he is not as paranoid as Mommy).
Mommy has seen little children hurt. Mommy has seen little children die. Mommy has worked frantically over a little boy who looked so much like you, and he died anyway. Before Mommy had you, when Mommy was just falling in love with Daddy, sometimes she came home and stood against the door and wondered how anyone could possible bear to have children. And then Mommy had you, and she understood that having a baby is like tearing out a piece of your heart and letting it walk around in this big, scary world.
So if sometimes Mommy seems a little emotional, a little scared, if sometimes you don't get to do what other kids get to do, if sometimes you see Mommy giving the evil eye to heavy pieces of furniture right before she shrieks at Daddy to take it out of the house, if when you get your driver's license and go out for your first drive and Mommy has to be taken the hospital with panic attacks--just please understand.
Mommy has seen little children be hit by cars, and choke, and have seizures, and drown in pools, and die in car accidents and by heavy falling objects.
So tonight, if you didn't understand why Mommy sat and cried until you fell asleep, it is because Mommy got very, very scared. No matter how well childproofed everything is, you will find whatever Mommy has missed. And tonight, while Daddy was at a car accident with the ambulance, Mommy set you down on the living room floor to play for a few minutes while she ran out to the kitchen to stir dinner and dessert in the crockpots.
Mommy knows better than that.
I heard the gagging sound from the kitchen.
I ran back in, and there you were, beautiful, beautiful baby, sitting there, terror in your eyes, no air getting into your lungs. I saw the piece of paper I had somehow missed on the floor, half of it crumpled, the other part, presumably, balled up and lodged in your throat. I glanced at your fingers and part of me registered that they were already turning blue. The other part realized that your Daddy was the paramedic on duty in the county and he was already tied up, so if I couldn't get it out, I would need an ambulance for my equipment, and I would have to use forceps and dull blades to open your airway and pull it out. And then I came to and scooped you up and flipped you over and began striking you carefully on the back, trying to dislodge that paper out of your airway.
You were not impressed with this, but I repeated it, praying you did not lose consciousness. I glanced around the living room, looking for my phone, going to call 911 and tell them that I needed my fire department, and to just find someone who could drive the ambulance here and I would be the paramedic on scene, since I wasn't about to wait for someone else.
And then you made a grunting noise, and out flew a soggy, balled up piece of paper. And then you threw up, all over Mommy--but I didn't care. You took a great big breath, and then screamed. It was the most beautiful scream Mommy has ever heard.
And you cried, and Mommy cried, and you both sat on the floor crying, until you put your head on Mommy's shoulder and your thumb in your mouth, and fell asleep, safe in Mommy's arms.
So if sometimes, Mommy is a little too paranoid, if sometimes you don't understand why you can't go swimming in the neighbor's pool when no adults are around, or why you can't climb on furniture, or ride your bike on the main road, it is because Mommy has seen way too much. Sometimes, Mommy even thinks that she would be a more relaxed Mom, and maybe a better Mom, if she wasn't a paramedic.
But tonight, Mommy is very, very thankful that she is.
And even more thankful for you.
I love you, sweet baby Josh.
Posted by smoore2213 at 5:27 PM