Life with a 1 year old is unpredictable.
And when you need to sleep, you just need to sleep.
So picking up where I left off. Ahem.
"Sleepless nights and post-pregnancy hormones are not for the faint of heart. Ten weeks away from my Love, with a baby who went from 6 weeks to 4 months left its mark. "
I spent the first half of those ten weeks at home in Fredericksburg, staying busy, and often calling family and friends to come over and keep me company.
It was hard for me to leave home.
To leave home meant putting Jaxon out of arms reach in a vehicle where I couldn't see him (I didn't have one of those handy dandy mirrors at the time).
What if he spit up and choked and couldn't breathe while I was driving?
How would I know if he needed help?
What if he died because he was choking and couldn't breathe while I was driving and didn't realize it?
It was terrifying. Every time.
Whole car rides were spent straining to hear his little breaths, in and out. Crying wasn't fun, but it was better, because at least I knew he was breathing. I tried to talk myself out of my fears. I knew in my mind that God is the one who holds us and gives us life and breath, and that HE was responsible for keeping Jaxon breathing and alive, not me. But oh how my feelings told me a different story. Car rides were spent praying with every breath of mine that God would just keep Jaxon breathing and keep him from choking and get us to where we were going.
I knew my reactions were wayyyy out of proportion to what was going on. I knew my emotions and hormones were crazy and that I was still being affected by the experiences before Jaxon's surgery. But I couldn't change it. I wanted to be normal. This wasn't me. I was chill, laid back. I had taken care of so many babies with reflux before. I'm not a worrier. I'm not an anxious person. I go with the flow. But suddenly I couldn't. Suddenly I knew what people meant when they say that fear is paralyzing. Most days it was like watching myself from the outside, wishing I could just be normal again.
I felt responsible. I felt that the weight of Jaxon's little life rested on my shoulders. Tim wasn't there, and it was just me. But I wasn't alone. I knew that. I knew God was with me. Looking back on that season, I know I was held every moment in His arms. The few hours we were able to spend with Tim on some of the weekends were life-giving to my heart and soul. That man can remind me like no other how good God is and how He is FOR us and not against us. He reminded me time and time again that God loves Jaxon more than we do. That God is merciful. Even from far away, and in the midst of his own challenges at OCS, God gave me a husband who cared so well for my struggling heart. I am so grateful for that.
I think one of the greatest things to come from that time was a deep, raw, real experience of the Love of Jesus that doesn't wait for us to be good enough, or think the right things, or do the right things. The Love of Jesus that comes when we are hurting and weak and lonely and afraid. So afraid. He was there, with no condemnation. I knew He loved me. I knew He wouldn't leave me. He was there with mercy. He was there to listen every time I cried. Every time I said, "God please have mercy, please just keep my baby alive."
And He did. So much mercy on this mama's heart.
Tears. Again. Now. Just thinking about it. He was so faithful to walk with me through that valley.
For the last three weeks of OCS, I stayed at my parents' house. It was a huge relief and help to have people there 24/7 to help share my burdens. I got sick while I was there, and Mom & Dad brought me meals in bed, did my laundry, kept me company, took care of Jax so I could sleep, and prayed with me and for me. It was during this time that I started thinking that my experiences since Jaxon's pyloric stenosis reminded me of things I had learned in biology class about PTSD. I started doing a little research and found out that Postpartum PTSD is actually a thing (http://www.postpartum.net/get-the-facts/postpartum-post-traumatic-stress-disorder.aspx). According to the website, "Approximately 1-6% of women experience postpartum post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) following childbirth. Most often, this illness is caused by a real or perceived trauma during delivery or postpartum." =Some of the symptoms include, "Persistent increased arousal (irritability, difficulty sleeping, hypervigilance, exaggerated startle response); Anxiety and panic attacks; Feeling a sense of unreality and detachment." The discovery that I was not the only one to experience something like this brought a new level of healing and hope. I was able to find words to describe my feelings and experiences that helped me share them better with others and find support and prayer.
Have I mentioned that I have the most amazing family and friends and church in the world? I had so many people surrounding me during this time. So many people praying for me. So many people calling me and texting me and visiting me. We weren't meant to do life on our own. I am so grateful for the community God had built for me there long before I knew what I would be walking through.
Finally November was almost over, and with it came the end of OCS. Forever. Thank God.
Tim graduated, and we had a week to spend Thanksgiving with family, visit friends, and begin to readjust to doing life together as a family of 3 (something we had not had a chance to do very long before Tim left for OCS.) He started TBS a week later, but soon Christmas came and we had a few more weeks off.
And now Jax just woke up from his TWO HOUR NAP! (That's a miracle. Trust me.)
To be continued...again :)
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