I didn't have a great day yesterday. In fact, I had a bad day. At least I thought I did at first. Let me explain: The day began as any other, 6am, my toddler wakes up with his daily "hi's". What are those? Well, immediately after waking up, my son says "hi" to everyone he knows. "Hi TaTa(mama), Hi Dada, Hi guy (no idea who that is) Hi babe (again, no idea)" and so on. He then stands up in his crib and smiles in my direction. It's a great way to wake up, don't get me wrong. But as the morning progressed, my sweet little angel seemed to take a trip to opposite land.
He screamed and cried throughout the morning for one reason or another. He was ready to eat, he cried. He bumped his head ever so slightly, he cried. I walked two inches from him, he cried. I think you get the picture. It got to the point where I wanted to cry along with him. My feelings of anxiety were screaming out of my skin. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down and looked at the time. It was 8:30am, time for his morning nap. He fell asleep no problem. I felt a sense of calm enter the house. As I sat down to read an email, he woke up only 35 mintues into his normally 1.5hour nap!
He sat up and began to cry, huge tears rolled down his chubby cheeks. I held him close, but could feel my anxiety creeping upon me again. I tried to regulate my breathing to calm myself so not to lose it. He finally calmed down and wanted to play with his books, so I sat him down and I sat back down on the couch and watched him play. After what only felt like a moment I realized it was time to get ready for a lunch date I had with a friend of mine and her 1 year old son. I sat up and grabbed and outfit for the half naked chubster. Brought him over to the changing table and fought with an unusually strong 1 year old which was normally an easy task. He rolled, twisted, cried, turned, jumped up, crawled away, but finally I was victorious and got him clothed! I dashed into the bathroom and did what I could with my hair and make up (which is brush hair, eye liner...done) all the while, yelling "No!" six or seven times as he got into various things in the closet. Finally we are ready and as I send a text to let her know we are on the way, he rips off his shoes and shirt and runs down the hallway screaming with delight. I chase after him frantically grabbing the articles of clothing as I stumble down the hallway after him.
The day seemed to slow pace after that, until we started driving down the road. It seemed as though everyone on the road got the memo that I wasn't having the best day and were all there to make sure it continued. I was cut off four times in a span of 2 miles. I got honked at, for no apparent reason and was flipped off as well. I finally made it to our destination when all the overflow parking was closed off due to a firefighter and police exercise, during lunch hour, in a random restaurant parking lot. No problem, we ended up going to another restaurant down the road which was equally nice, but I turned down the wrong road and passed the restaurant completely. I had to turn around in another parking lot to get back to the road I needed, but was cut off by a van would was trying to turn around in the middle of the road.
Finally, we made it! My anxiety was maxed out at this point in my day. But THANKFULLY, nothing eventful happened during lunch. Just fellowship and catching up. The boys had a great time and so did we, the moms who needed a lunch out on a seemingly nice day. We said our goodbyes and my little man fell asleep five minutes down the road.
As I watched him sleep, his bottom lip poked out and his cheeks flushed from excitement, I realized something, I was so very blessed this day. This time last year, I was admitted to the hospital for dangerously high blood pressure. So high in fact, that I was in danger of having a stroke. I had monitors and gadgets taped and wired to me and my lil guy. I had been induced and the contractions were coming on so strong that I couldn't see straight. My water had broken, but no progress had been made and he decided to float back up. They finally asked me if I wanted to continue or have him taken out, because after 48hours of labor, I had only progressed to 4cm!! This was not my birth plan, this was not how things were supposed to go. I was supposed to be at the birth center, in a luxury hotel like room with my family all around me as we sang songs and they encouraged me whilst I laid back in the spa tub to give birth to our little baby boy. Doing it all natural, no drugs at all. And here I was, in a hospital, induced, demanding drugs and epidural, now faced with not having him the "natural way"?
They took him via C-section at 4:37am August 16th, 2016. When I first heard his cry, all of the "bad day" I was complaining about earlier was so worth it. I will go through a million of these so called "bad days" just to be able to remember, the first time I was able to hold my little guy. Seeing his face for the first time and hearing the nurse scream out because he peed on her (haha, classic). How could I possibly complain about my "bad day" when I hear his laugh, see him smile and being on the receiving end of his wonderful hugs and kisses. "I prayed for this child, and the Lord has given me what I asked of him" 1 Samuel 1:27. I thank God everyday for this child. He chose me to be his mother and I am blessed for it.
I know we all have bad days, and its ok. But let's try to remember what makes everyday a good day. We woke up, our families, friends, jobs, careers, food(just me? m'kay) We have so much to be thankful for if only we take the time to see.