In the Stillness

Hello friends! It’s been a long spring hasn’t it? or is that just me? It seems these days all I do is delete spam comments off my blog so if you have sent me a nice comment, don’t take it personally that I’ve deleted it.

I’m beginning to feel my creative juices flowing again through my veins 2 weeks out from Sawbaby being born. I’m feeling alive inside again, which is actually kind of hilarious because I’m getting about 1/2 the amount of sleep I was accustomed to. Things are great, the baby is sleeping well and I feel pretty sane- all in all this is a complete different experience from what Summit was like. I am understanding how people could actually like the newborn stage, before I just thought they were insane or a glutton for punishment.

I think that it’s in those times, when I look at my new baby boy, that all the flashbacks crowd in my head of what it was like. The desperation, the exhaustion, the fear, anxiety and depression. Looking back, I think that I may have had postpartum depression but never did anything for it. I couldn’t make Summit happy. He cried (screamed) constantly, nursed poorly and projectile vomited his meals on a regular basis.

I hate comparison, but I can’t stop it. I think that sometimes I go into denial about Summit really having all the problems that he has so reality is a slap in the face. I hate that he’s on a gluten free diet. I hate that the tests they did recently said that instead of being at a 36 month level, he’s at a 20 month level. That isn’t fair. He’s amazing, a rock star (quoting my pediatrician and friend) and a joy to everyone he meets, but yeah, the reality is that he’ll never be “normal”.

and I can’t help but feel that Sawyer is Summit 2.0, the better version.

I know that is stupid and wrong, but these feelings come unbidden and swarm my mind. Nothing is the same and that makes everything that much more hard. I’m so used to bad news that hearing good news makes me feel worse in some ways. How does that even make sense? Sawyer had his 2 week check up and had already regained his birth weight plus 10 oz, he’s huge. I have done nothing different yet it took Summit over a month just to get back to his birth weight! When the doctor was telling me the good news I wanted to cry.

While in the hospital, the doctors were concerned with his breathing at first, then heard a murmur and did an Echo on him. I wasn’t worried AT ALL even as the doctors and nurses watched my face, waiting for me to freak out. I was calm, said it was probably nothing, inside I just said, “bring it on”. I can handle bad.

I don’t know how to deal with a healthy baby.

I am happy most of the time, don’t misunderstand me, it’s just that my joy is bittersweet. I am the master of feeling two conflicting emotions at the same time. The concern I have for Summit adjusting to Sawyer takes up most of my emotional energy when he is around, while he is at school I am busy with Sawyer, but at night, during those precious free moments when I’m alone is when everything crumbles. My heart cries out to God, I pour out all my fears and doubts and pain. Only he hears my true agony because so much of it is inexpressible.

Every milestone will be like this for me. Wonderful and amazing but with a touch of grief. Although knowing that comparison is wrong and unhealthy, it’s a weakness that I think will forever be a thorn in my side.

I don’t think there is an answer for this. Everyone has their own baggage they carry around, even constantly giving it back to God sometimes doesn’t take the hurt away. We are all damaged on some level. There are the easy answers I could post now, the things people say when someone is hurting, but sometimes it’s just better to get the pain off my chest so I can start again tomorrow.