Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Payne-filled Truth

Lest you be fooled by posted photos of grinning babies and hugging siblings...

Lest we lose the celebration of passing trials in the time that passes with them...

Lest we forget what the start felt like when our normal has been adjusted...

Let me be clear...

The babies do cry. Sometimes in tandem. Sometimes in alternating shifts so that no moment goes uncovered. Sometimes in the midst of me trying to cook, or sleep, or pee. Sometimes it makes my brain shut off. Sometimes it makes my heart break. Other times the angry "L" sounds make me chuckle. Sometimes I take pictures... Because I'm ultra compassionate.

We do fight. Sometimes loudly. Sometimes silently stewing in our icey corners. There are obnoxious bickerments. There are heated discussions about real, true, hurtful issues. The dangerous combination of moderate sleep deprivation and slight hormonal irregularities (feel free to guess who) creates the perfect environment for short tempers. Sometimes fighting comes too easily... While other times you step into it knowing its going to hurt... but not nearly as bad as ignoring the issue and pretending it doesn't exist.

Working out hurts. I don't always feel motivated to run. The lack of core strength makes me feel like my guts are going to spill out mid-stride. Sometimes I dread going to the gym. My abdominal muscles always complain about my workout in the middle of the night when it's time to get up to feed a baby. Sometimes I celebrate a 10 second plank. But I get stronger each time I push thru the pain... and it's worth it.

i'm not super mom. There's a sliding scale of "dirty" when it comes to laundry in this house. i aim to bathe our children twice a week... and often fail at achieving that lofty goal. My children's coughing annoys me. My infants watch TV. Cooking is not my forte. Maverick sleeps on his belly. The preschool teacher sometimes calls me to see if i was planning on picking up Mic. More often than i should admit supper consists of popcorn & yogurt in front of a movie... i'm not advocating for any of these things... Just giving you an honest glimpse into my mothering reality.

Medical needs are demanding. A single tube feed requires pumping (or mixing special formula), cleaning the button & site, attaching the tubes, priming the bag, dissolving & mixing & adding the medicine, rinsing syringes, hanging the bag, setting the dose, remembering to actually press "run" before the irritating beeping begins, snuggling & practicing latching & sucking, waiting for feeding to finish, unhooking, detaching, rinsing & storing tubes, storing bag... Until the next feeding... Which needs started in about 2 hours. Having the oxygen tube in means that one baby has to stay in the living room. No carrying him to comfort him while getting a quick bite to eat or bringing him with me to sort laundry. Also said baby is incredibly Houdini-like with getting the cannula out of his little nostrils. The tubes cause nose bleeds and tripping hazards. Spot checking his O2 sats with a home machine means spending 3-8 minutes holding the sensor on his foot trying to get the pulse ox to actually read his levels. It means running out of bags on Christmas Eve & formula over the weekend. It means phone calls daily about medical coverage & appointments & supplies & deliveries & therapies... & SO much paperwork. It means 3 specialists, 2 general care doctors, a home nurse, a therapy team of 5, 2 medical supply companies... We regularly drive 2 hours for his appointments & go once a week to his local doctor for weight checks... And have already had an emergency room visit on a weekend. This is a lot... A lot of blessings we never imagined. The people who help us care for him are amazing & we get the privilege of adding them to our family. We rejoice over the fact that I simply get to nurse both babies now... A different perspective than if we hadn't started with tubes. We recognize that God has healed & strengthened his lungs instead of taking breathing on his own for granted. I don't add this paragraph to complain, but to remember clearly and to rejoice.

Life in our family is messy, loud, crazy, stressful, busy... Laundry & dishes & toys & papers & dirt pile up... Boo boos happen, hands don't always get washed, things break... We need help just to function... but that is some of the beauty of life. It's real... and hard... and full... and worth it!

So never judge other lives based only on still shots into it... And most definitely don't compare your private worst with other's public best.

1 comment:

  1. You are awesome. None of us are perfect and have made less than perfect decisions for our kids because of lack of sleep, crying baby (or in your case...-ies) and desperation for order! Soldier on and know that there are lots of people praying for you (and if that gets you to popcorn/yogurt night, then it is all good!)
    In sincerest admiration for the life God has called you too,