Anne TootillTo Be or Not to Be a Mother -Part Three
February 6th 2007 21:09
It’s been six months since Josh’s asthma attack and every time he breathes deeply I take out the Nebulizer. I keep reliving that moment where the emergency room doctors told me he was turning blue and there was a good chance they’d have to put him on a ventilator to keep him alive. How could a parent let that one go? I’m a worrier by nature. How could I? Even though his heart raced every time I gave him a treatment. Even though I knew this couldn’t be good in the long run, I had to do it. I had to.
And I had to get ready to go to California. My husband’s brother was getting married there and we were in the wedding party. We were all going and my future sister-in-law had arranged for babysitters for the kids. I was a little nervous that strangers were watching the kids but she knew the teenagers and frankly I could use the break so I was grateful to her.
My sis- to- be had chosen a pretty tea length dress with a crinoline skirt which made it poofy and not easy to pack. I was going to have to carry it on, along with Josh (not yet 3) Alex (18 months) baby bags, bottles, snacks, diapers (since Josh refused to toilet train - and because of the asthma I didn’t have the heart to push it yet – both were still in diapers), toys, books, car seat and stroller not to mention luggage which was checked.
We had to get to the airport 2 hours earlier and so, assuming the flight was on time, we’d have to keep the kids occupied for a minimum of 7 hours. It wasn’t going to be easy or fun. And I was exhausted just thinking about it. But it was my husband’s brother so I knew we had to go. And no one had volunteered to take the kids so they did too. But I did ask one thing. I asked my mother-in-law if she could take my dress down with her because it would lessen the on-board load. Her answer…no. It would be too much trouble for her, she said. And as usual, even though inside I was angry and hurt, I never said a word. What difference would it make, I thought? She’d already told me she wasn’t going to help.
It is what it is.
And I had to get ready to go to California. My husband’s brother was getting married there and we were in the wedding party. We were all going and my future sister-in-law had arranged for babysitters for the kids. I was a little nervous that strangers were watching the kids but she knew the teenagers and frankly I could use the break so I was grateful to her.
My sis- to- be had chosen a pretty tea length dress with a crinoline skirt which made it poofy and not easy to pack. I was going to have to carry it on, along with Josh (not yet 3) Alex (18 months) baby bags, bottles, snacks, diapers (since Josh refused to toilet train - and because of the asthma I didn’t have the heart to push it yet – both were still in diapers), toys, books, car seat and stroller not to mention luggage which was checked.
We had to get to the airport 2 hours earlier and so, assuming the flight was on time, we’d have to keep the kids occupied for a minimum of 7 hours. It wasn’t going to be easy or fun. And I was exhausted just thinking about it. But it was my husband’s brother so I knew we had to go. And no one had volunteered to take the kids so they did too. But I did ask one thing. I asked my mother-in-law if she could take my dress down with her because it would lessen the on-board load. Her answer…no. It would be too much trouble for her, she said. And as usual, even though inside I was angry and hurt, I never said a word. What difference would it make, I thought? She’d already told me she wasn’t going to help.
It is what it is.
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