Saturday, August 15, 2009

Enjoy Him!

My last blog was far too angstful and that bothered me. I'm sorry it was like that. I think used my blog as a way of spewing forth my problems and anxieties into cyberspace. I don't think that is right. So I'm going to attempt to change that. Be more uplifting - more cheerful.

Caleb had his 8th birthday on the 13th August. He has been excited all week. Me telling him he was having a week long birthday didn't help. hahaha. He had a party on Sunday, and we went to a laser tag center with a bunch of boys. He had a day off school on his birthday and he had a party with his dad on Saturday. phew! He's been 8 all week, and he's been receiving presents all week. He has told me every day this week. "I am 8" he is a big boy now, so he tells me.

When he goes up a year I get sentimental. I expect that's normal. I start telling him about when he was born and how he was in mummy's tummy. It also brings it back for me too. Giving birth to a ten week premature baby is an event engrained on my memory. Although I forget how small he really was. He weighed, 1.2kilos. so small and I wasn't able to hold him until he was at least a week in the humicrib. What a hard strange week that was, actually the whole time I was in hospital was a surreal experience.

I left hospital but Caleb had to stay. It is a difficult thing to come home without your baby. Then I had to travel to hospital to see him and give him my expressed milk. Finally he came home, at 7 weeks old. Life became even more difficult as I was having relationship problems with his father.

Now, after Caleb was home for 6 days he fell ill. Very ill. I took him to the doctors - he said go home. On the way to the car Caleb stopped breathing. The whole of heaven heard my prayers that day. 'Please God, don't take my baby. I need him more than you do.' I breathed into Caleb's mouth. thank God, he breathed again. I ran up to the doctors - crying, shouting. They took him, he was limb. He stopped breathing again. RED alert sounded in the doctors surgery. Doctors ran from their rooms, leaving their own patients. Caleb only needed one doctor, but they all came. Meanwhile I stayed in another room - fearful, praying, hoping.

An ambulance came. The paramedic carried this tiny limb form - his little singlet torn down the front - in his hands so carefully through the surgery. A miniature oxygen mask covering his whole face. I followed, numb. At least he was breathing.

A wonderful thing. The hospital was 2 minutes down the road. Straight into emergency we went. He was laid on an adult stretcher bed, right at the top. He was surrounded by nurses and doctors. I watched the nurses face as she pumped the bag over Caleb's face. She shared a look with the doctor who was working on getting Caleb on the ventilator. He knew what she was trying to say - He had stopped breathing (again) I knew! He said just keep pumping the air. The doctor watched his chest. He breathed again.

I was very calm. It was in God's hands. He was in God's hands. I was resigned to that. And in that I had peace. I was either going to be Caleb's mother on earth, or I would be his mother in heaven. I think that's when I came back to God for real.

Caleb had viral meningitis. He was in an isolation unit for 12 days. He had seizures and he got very thin. I stayed in the hospital in the rooms for parents with sick children. He lived. There were so many outcomes that could have happened. He could be blind and deaf. He isn't.

We had an amazing Scottish Doctor. I wish I could remember his name, but I remember what he looks like. My memory of that time was foggy at best. All I recall is the hospital and life there. He was a wise doctor in so many ways, and having him was a blessing in itself. I remember asking him, toward the end of our stay when Caleb was better, How was I going to look after this little baby? What if he gets sick again?
and his wonderful advice was - Enjoy him! and that is all you need do. Enjoy the ups and downs, enjoy him growing, and don't get caught up with worry. The time is fleeting. He will never be this baby again - ever.

Caleb will never be this boy again. I get tears when I think of this. I will (god willing) have Caleb into eternity, but I will never have this boy again. Never hold his little body, never hear his boy voice, see him play his child games. His innocence. I'm getting sad thinking about this.

We must enjoy our children! I think there is a wonderful blessing awaiting those parents (in Christ) who have lost children. I don't think it's visible on this earth,(the pain is great) but it is something that waits for them in eternity.

For Caleb, my dear little boy, a miracle through and through. You have great purpose in this life of yours.

I'm sorry I'm quite sappy this week! Thanks for reading through all of that. :-)

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