Jayden barfed yesterday.
Actually, from both ends. When I went in to wake him up for school he was sleeping in it. Poor guy. Justin picked him up and I aired out his room while he continued to sleep on the bathroom floor.
Justin gave him a bath.
I stripped the bed.
It's always hard having a sick child, especially a sick, non-verbal child. It's like having a baby in so many ways. They can't tell you exactly what's wrong so they cry. And then as parents, we try to unlock the mystery.
"Do you think it's something he ate/drank?"
"Brooklyn was also sick for a few days, bet it's the same bug", we reason.
After his bath, we moved him to the couch and he easily fell back asleep.
His body so fragile.
I sat and watched the rise and fall of his breath. He held each breath a second, then his chest sunk into the couch.
I held his soft, curled hand. I brushed off the thought of another time I will maybe do this, for the last time, and thanked God for each breath.
_____________________________
He dry heaves. I grab the barf bowl. Isn't it funny how we have "barf" rituals? When I was young, I puked in a bowl or toilet, ate crackers and drank ginger ale. I know a woman who swore that Pepsi cures everything.
The bus comes for B.
Grandma comes to sit with J.
I drive Ellie to VBS.
When I got home, he had just thrown up and #3ed in his pants. And, as Ama went to get the diaper stuff, he fell back asleep.
The day in day out caregiving routine isn't my stongsuit, but I love taking care of my babies when they're sick or in the hospital. I'm not sure why. I hate seeing them sick, so I guess when they are doing fine, I assume anyone can change a diaper. But when they're sick, they need their mom. Sometimes, we just need our mom.
Like it was orchestrated by God himself, he opened his sleepy eyes and smiled right at me. You guys, it was the most heavenly smile. Not a smile of a sick child. And it lingered. It was like he was saying,
"there you are, mom. My. Mom."
I made him a bed, changed the #3, and turned on some Handy Manny. And then he said it again. Those eyes. That crooked smile. It's these secret I love you's we share that make me feel like I saw God himself shining through my sweet boy.
Precious.
Profound.
Holy exchanges.
I am so proud to be his mom. He is such a gift. He teaches me so much about the character and personhood of Jesus without ever using a word.
