A Mother Heart

Years ago, I heard this conference address entitled A "Mother Heart".  I've often reflected on that title as I've made various decisions pertaining to motherhood.  Asking myself:  Am I doing the right thing?  Are my actions consistent with my desire to truly be a mother?  Those answers are sometimes hard to face.  It is especially painful when the instinct of my heart is in stark contrast to what is best.  I've never really thought that could be the case ... until recently.

That first Friday my husband dropped Baby G and me off at Primary Children's Medical Center, I had a bit of a sore throat.  On Saturday, a cough starting developing.  By this time, we knew G's diagnosis and I started wearing a mask.  What was probably due to stress and the oh-so-awesome sleep that hospital beds afford, I really started getting sick.  The sore throat persisted, accompanied by really nasty coughing, painful headaches and some sneezing.  I kept telling myself  "I can be strong and make it through this to be there for Baby G."  He and I have always been quite close.  And I hated the thought of him going through this without his mama right there to comfort him.  Then on Tuesday morning, the doctors came in to show me G's recent blood levels and my heart dropped.  They weren't bad ... they were actually fairly good for someone with leukemia ... but, as expected, his ability to fight off germs was dropping rapidly.

I couldn't stay ... but how could I leave?  How could I leave my baby in the hospital?  Yes, his daddy would come and be with him.  But I am his mama.  I am the one he asks for when he gets hurt, or is crying, or when he's sick.  And here he is, the sickest he has ever been .... hurting more than he has ever hurt ... shedding more tears than he has ever shed ...  and I felt compelled to leave.  I was so torn.  I felt irresponsible staying ... and irresponsible leaving.  But leave I did.

I called a good friend on the way home and cried (I know, bad-driver award).  She's a super positive person and helped the tears dry as we talked about good things.  Then I came home to a slue of do-gooders steam-cleaning my home and the tears almost returned.  They were bleaching every bleach-able surface ... packing up the catch-all room to get it ready for Baby G ... steaming my bathroom (heaven help me) and all of my walls.  My mom - Garret's mom - Garret's Aunt Shaun - I love those women.

Two of my other children were also sick - same symptoms.  Come to find out - we all had Influenza B.  Really?! Good grief!  Baby G was scheduled to come home the next day - what to do?  I called Garret - the hospital wouldn't keep him another day.  I called his pediatrician - she was nervous and ordered Tamiflu for the whole family.  And we sequestered everyone.  Everyone wore a mask for two weeks.  I stayed in my bedroom for an entire week.  I could hear G whisper as he went in for his nightly bath - "There's mama's room - shhhh! she's sleeping!!"  My heart would break every time - Is that what he thinks?  That I stay away because I'm tired?  Please tell me he won't remember this.  Please tell me I'm doing the right thing.

It would be almost a month later, as we came to the conclusion of the first phase of chemo, that I would be assured that yes, we did the right thing.  All those family prayers in the hallway with little people sticking their heads out the door ... all those movies ... all that Tamiflu ... all of those essential oils that made my house smell like an apothecary .... It was all worth it.  G made it through chemo-induction without getting sick.  And when prior to his lumbar-punctures, the techs would ask if he'd been exposed to Influenza in the past 30 days, I would have to say yes - but this mother heart knows that we did EVERYTHING we could to keep him safe.

Casey