(9/2/16) 3:58am the moment I realized I’ll never have a typical life.
I hear a strange noise. I’m dreaming. I hear the strange noise again. The theme of my dream shifts. I hear the noise again but it’s louder this time. Is it my dream? The noise doesn’t fit. What could it be? Very groggy and dazed I slowly awake. I hear the noise. It’s a weird noise. Is that Noah? What silliness is he up to now (I begin to roll over and commence with my dream). Wait, check the monitor and see what he’s doing. Why is he face down? Why does he sound like that? Oh my God he’s stuck on his stomach and trying to breathe! “Hold on Noah, I’m coming” I yelled. My legs can’t move fast enough. No seriously, they can’t as I’m still sore from a run earlier in the week and going down each step was a reminder of pushing him up that dreadful Jackson Rd hill.
I make it to his bedside. His head is thrashing side to side, yet never lifting up where he can catch a hint of air. He’s trying so hard to move his head and breathe. I release the railing of the bed. Grab arm and shoulder and roll. He begins to gasp for air. If he could have sucked up all the air from the rooms downstairs he would have and sure looked as if he were trying! Oh, wait he’s beginning to hyperventilate. His body is super hot; he’s breathing way too fast, crap how do I fix this. “Ok Noah, let’s breathe. Breathe with mommy. Just like we do in yoga, inhale…exhale…take nice deep breaths”. Saying those words with a calm voice and demonstrating the actions without panic as he repeatedly grasped my finger was no easy feat, yet beneficial and integral for both of us. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose we breathe together as if we are one. He’s calmed. He now has on clean underoos. He’s safely situated. I take back my fingers. It’s 3:55am, let’s go back to sleep. We can get two more hours in before we have to be up and getting started with our day. Each time I moved away his breathing became rapid and coarse and the body temp that was coming down began to shoot back up. “You’re ok. You’re safe. Breathe, just breathe with mommy.” I tried to leave again and his breathing was getting erratic. “Awe man, no seizures. Ok, I will come lay with you.” You do what you have to do, right? That includes squeezing into a twin size hospital bed with a young boy who likes his space. Much to my surprise he wanted to cuddle and did just that. Much to my chagrin, it was only an hour later before a fist was jabbing my ribs and an elbow firmly pressed against my throat, all signs he wanted his space back.
It’s 6am, time to get up and get our day started.
It was this night, well, early morning, that I truly confronted the fact that despite my efforts I will never have a typical experience in life. I reminded myself moments like this are the exact reason I’m determined to live out loud. Providing a life full of experiences, not sweating the small stuff, having an attitude of gratitude and thankful for EVERY day we have together.