Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Mastitis and Mothers.
I woke up early this morning, my temples throbbing with pain, my body shivering with cold yet sweating, and my chest burning and hard. Painful. So painful.
Thus began my relapse with mastitis. I had it when Sam was 3 weeks old, and now, at 8 weeks. I'm amazed that I can go to bed feeling fine and wake up feeling like I'm dying. Amazed that our bodies can change so quickly. I lay in bed, praying that Brigham would get up with his alarm. I couldn't make it up the stairs to wake them. Sometimes he turns it off and falls back asleep. Thankfully, he got up, turned off the fan and turned on the lights. The other kids followed suit. I dragged my useless body to the couch, hoping that my prescence alone would encourage them as they got ready for school without my help. It's times like these that I'm so grateful my kids are a little older. They really CAN get themselves ready if they need to.
I nursed Sam in excruciating pain. If you've had mastitis, you know what I mean. I knew if I didn't nurse him it would get worse and worse. Sam didn't even notice. He'd look up at me and smile, and I couldn't help but smile back . . . with tears running down my face. Sweet innocent baby.
I called Mom. That's when the tears REALLY started. There is nothing like a mother's empathy. Like she's on the same wavelength as your pain, that she can feel it. Somehow, she can make everything better, just because she's Mom. Now that I'm a mom, I realize that there's no magic formula for solving a child's problems. But a kid can believe that--that moms are magic. One thing I've learned is that you never stop needing your mom.
Mom drove the preschool carpool for me. She took Sam and I to her house. She made me breakfast AND lunch. She gave Sammy a bath and rocked him to sleep, all the while I lay on the couch with hot flashes of fever. My angel mother. Really.
I want to be like her. She is a nurturing queen. She seems so much more gentle than me. Everything is done with a more delicate hand. She's figured out how to stay balanced in her life. She sacrifices so much of her time for others. She always chooses the better part. And plans well. She's ten times better than me at planning (but I'm more spontaneous, and that's okay, too). It never seems like she's struggled devoloping these qualities, like they're innate or something (or maybe I'm ignorant of the truth). I have to work harder to be good:). I know she's human, that she's made mistakes, but, boy, has she lived her life with class. I keep my fingers crossed that somewhere in the recesses of MY soul is a part of HER. And, granted, she's had 35 more years to become this way. There IS hope for me, I just know it!
It's getting late. I'm hoping for a better night and a healthy morning, and praying that my mastitis days are officially OVER. I'm not sure how much more my bosom can handle:).
at 7:33 PM