What Else?

I was thrilled to have nothing on the calendar today except Des & Isaiah leaving for a couple of hours to go to gym class.  I figured I'd get my groceries done while they were gone and maybe even get an afternoon nap... and then I thought - wow, it's so nice out, I'll take them for a walk this morning.  I haven't been out for a walk since before Asa was born and it's been so warm around here that I thought we should take advantage of it. 

And so I packed my baby into my baby carrier (his "whole" head and all) and we left.  I was feeling like a good mom....for the moment...  We made it down to the end of our street, a whole block, before I tripped on Desirae's heel and fell down.

I tried to catch my balance and my hips were almost at a 90 degree angle as I took a couple big steps, trying to stay on my feet.  Because I was leaning so far forward,  Asa started to fall out of the top of the carrier.  In an attempt to keep him from smashing his head off the sidewalk, I threw myself sideways onto the pavement.  The moment went in slow motion, yet happened so fast that I wasn't even sure if he hit the ground or not.  Either way, I knew he had definitely been shaken like crazy and I JUST read a pamphlet on "Never shaking a baby!" yesterday!  Go figure. Now I can worry about his brain all night.... I know, silly me....I should just "relax".

Today when I fell and, for the first time since Asa's birth, needed to protect him and didn't really do a great job at it, I was so upset with myself.  I sat in this stupid mud puddle, on the side of the road, BAWLING like a baby not knowing if he was okay or not.  I would have liked to call my "encourager" from yesterday and tell her how accidents DO happen, even to "whole" babies....  ergh....  but along came a nice man with a little white dog - the kids held the dog (great distraction for them, they were wicked scared) while he helped me up and brushed the mud and leaves off of me.  I'm sure he thought I was crying a bit dramatically for someone who fell down - but I figured telling him about my last baby who died in my arms was probably not going to help me look less dramatic... I mean, seriously, talking about the effect that had on me yesterday (to another woman who has children and watched me walk the entire journey with Rachel) only made me look like I was trying to create a problem that in her mind didn't exist... so I let him think I was just plain crazy.  Like I said yesterday, it's not like my explanations ever help anyway.  So, if I'm gonna look crazy regardless, I might as well save my breath. Besides, at this point, I might fall into the "crazy" category.

I took Asa out of the carrier and carried him home in my arms...sobbing the whole way.... staring at him to see if he was as non-responsive as he appeared - or if he really did just SLEEP through that entire thing.  He never cried once.  I, on the other hand, was bleeding all over the place from a huge gouge on my arm and crying like crazy.  I called the doctor when I got here and brought him in to be checked and he looks fine.

Every time I thought about him falling for the next 3 hours, I cried.  I cried half the day yesterday over that dumb conversation, and now half the day today - and between that and minimal sleep, I'm looking real pretty, let me tell you.  But I actually don't even care.  Luckily, my beauty pageant isn't until the end of the month.

Dixie brought us dinner & dessert,  my mom came down so I could go grocery shopping and cleaned my house, and Millie kept the other two kids for the afternoon after gym class and brought them back after dinner. That was my "manna" today.  I SO needed the help.

Asa is starting to squirm in his seat and make his cute little newborn squeaks (more manna) - it's just about time for some Mama milk.   I should have just stayed home and snuggled with him on the couch this morning.  I really can't take much more at this point in my life.... and it always seems to get worse when I try to be super mom and do all those things that other people say I should be.  I have to let go of the expectations from others and myself.

I'm so thankful he's okay - and at the same time I'm scared that I'm not able to protect him like I want to. It's pretty bad when even walking is dangerous.   I guess it kind of reminds me of the week after we got Rachel's diagnosis....

I had met my mom at the park that day (me & the kids walked - you know, cause it's a 'good mom' thing to do!) and for the first time in my life at 31 years old, I got stung by a bee.  Then, while still all bent out of shape that I got stung, we started towards home and Desirae came inches away from getting hit by a car on her bike.  After I almost puked, I felt like I never wanted to leave the house again.... like I was having my baby taken from me and.... what else??  What else is going to go wrong?  Is God going to take another one of my kids too?  How much more can one person bear?

And as I sit here watching Asa sleep, my love for him overflowing so much my heart could burst, I can't help but ask "what else? - Is God going to take him too?"  The thought of it makes me want to puke and I feel like I never want to leave my house again.  How much more can one person bear?

This has been an unbelievably difficult week in every way possible.