The Easy Part

This evening I stumbled upon the blog made by James Camden Sikes’ parents. In case you didn’t know (‘cause I didn’t), this little boy passed away at 8 months old from a type of brain cancer called a rhabdoid tumor. I don’t know much about it but I know that his parents are devastated.  They were just regular people, a little younger than me, who had their first child and loved him so much. I know he was a regular baby, albeit extraordinarily adorable, who had cancer. He was a busy baby, a wiggly little guy with crazy hair.

And he lived for a little over 37 weeks.  He lived longer in his mama’s womb than he did in this world. 

And then I thought about a friend of mine, the girlfriend of my ex-boyfriend from high school.  I know it sounds weird but we broke up nearly 10 years ago. He was my first love and our families are close so it’s fine.  Anywho, last year, they had a baby, a beautiful little girl who was perfect in every way. Tragically, she developed without kidneys.  They chose to carry her to term [I think I would have done the same].

She lived about an hour and passed while lying in her mama’s arms. One hour, compared to 9 months. 
**SN: they are pregnant again and she is due 3 weeks before I am**

I was thinking about numbers and statistics that state that 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage, how I have friends who have had multiple miscarriages or struggled with getting pregnant.

On my end, I have been exceptionally blessed. I have had 4 full term babies with no major health issues (outside of the Squirrel’s eczema and allergies).  I have another healthy, kicky kids in my belly now. I’ve never miscarried. I have never experienced fertility issues [probably because I’ve never gotten pregnant on purpose. I’ve never had a still born or a baby who died or a child with a birth defect.

But over my 11 years of parenting-no, make that 39 years because 11+9+6+3-my babies have gotten sick, gotten hurt, had tonsils removed, had ear tubes put in, one had an arm in a cast for an injured growth plate, another spent 3 days in the hospital for reactive airway disorder. Things I couldn’t prevent from happening. Things I couldn’t protect them from.  Then you consider the non-physical stuff like being picked on or left out by other kids, having their feelings hurt-more things I can’ t protect them from.

The whole time they are in my womb, they are warm and comfortable and always full. And then they are born. And they get hungry and they get cold and they have wet diapers.  Stuff I can fix but that makes them cry.

I was thinking about how being pregnant is the easy part.

Pregnancy is hard on mommies, no doubt. It’s hard on me but it’s so easy for my babies. I think that’s why I love being pregnant so much.  When I am pregnant, I am the best mother possible for my children. I provide everything.  When I give birth, I am so happy to see my baby but I am so sad for them because I know that it can never be as perfect as it was before they were born. I remember when the Astronaut was born, hearing him cry and thinking how many tears he’d shed in his lifetime. 

So now I’m online with my spotty internet reading about babies who are very sick or who died. Parents who didn’t get to struggle with separation anxiety or potty training or girl cliques or bullying or insolent tweens.  My heart hurts for them and for my four perfect babies who have to suffer through this tough world.

I think I’m having a pregnancy moment because I am totally crying while I’m writing this.  *sigh* Hormones.

I hope the hubby brings me some cheese fries.