Friday, January 21, 2011

The Earth's Pull

There are two words that I think will always go together.  Every attempt to separate them is futile.  They are magnetic.  As strong as the Earth's pull on the moon and the moon's pull on the Earth.  The two words are 'Mommy' and 'Guilt.'

We have three pictures hanging int the hallway.  B is a few weeks old laying on a blue blanket.  He has that new born, wide eyed stare.  Perfect skin, perfect eyes, perfect little nose.  I can see the pictures from our bed.  They used to make me smile, thinking of sweet baby B.  Lately, the pictures have been haunting me.  His eyes stare at me with such vulnerability.  And I wonder, is it my fault?  Did I cause this?  There are so many things I should have done differently.  What was the tipping point?

Was it the reaction to his Hep B in the hospital?  We didn't know severe jaundice is a side effect.  How could I have ignored the other signs?  Was it the full body rash after the MMR?  Was it the Tylenol I gave him not knowing it depletes glutathione?  What about all the Tylenol I gave him for every little fever?  How could I not know something was wrong when he had so many fevers?  Was it because I started him on solids too soon?  We all started at 4 months when we were babies.  He was just so thin I thought it would help.  I should have heeded his doctor's warnings.  Did I not breastfeed him long enough?  I succumbed to pressures and stopped even though my heart was telling me something different.  Was it all the milk I let him drink, knowing it was too much?  When I think of B as a baby, I find myself pushing the memories away because with those memories comes a sense of  "You did this.  You could have prevented this.  He depended on you."  In my head I know that is wrong.  I know it's not logical.  But mommy and guilt and guilt and mommy......

I've been praying about this because I know that God doesn't want me to look back on those sweet baby days with regret.  Today, He gave me the greatest gift.  God knows our hearts even when we don't.  I truly believe that.  

We were eating lunch and Jilly scooted her plate over and climbed into my lap.  Then she said, "Rock me."  Instinctively, I began to sing a lullaby.  B looked at me and said, "Mommy, I want you to rock me."  Be still my heart.   My little boy who doesn't sit long enough for a good cuddle wants me to rock him.  Not wanting to take the moment away from Jilly, I promised him I'd rock him after I laid Jilly down for her nap.  

I laid Jilly down in her crib, closed the door, and headed for the rocking chair.  B climbed up into my lap and I began to sing the lullabies I would sing to him as a toddler.  I breathed in his sweet little boy smell and let the memories wash over me.  He laid his head on my on my chest, scrunched up his gangly arms and legs, and closed his eyes.  I began to think of the way his high toddler voice would join mine.  How his baby fine hair felt under my chin.  How he put his head on my shoulder at the exact moment in the lullaby every time.  How his fingers would curl around mine.  I felt that God was whispering to me, "He loves you.  Your love for him trumps everything.  It's okay.  It's okay.  It's okay."  Holding my boy was like a hug from God.  Reliving those moments without guilt, with only joy in my heart.  God can break ties as strong as the Earths pull on the moon, the moon's pull on the Earth.

B looked up at me, put his finger on my face and said, "Mommy, what's that water on your face?"  Thank you God, for that precious gift.


  1. This post made me cry. You found the strawberry, Tiffiny. You found the "awesomeness"!!

  2. So sweet. What a beautiful moment. And I'm so thankful that you shared it :-)