Tuesday, January 14, 2014

A Living, Breathing Reminder


A living, breathing reminder.

That was what Jonasen was.

There were moments that I would look at him and instantly find myself wondering...
~What would Andrew's laughter sound like?
~What toppings would he want on his ice cream?
~What kind of book would he have chosen at bedtime?

Those moments still find me.
They found me tonight.

Jonasen (Andrew's twin) is at that lovely age where his permanent teeth have come in and (un)lucky for him, they have come in quite crooked and on top of each other.  To make room in his mouth, he currently has an expander~ an awful thing that is attached to his teeth and slowly pushes them apart.

When he got it, I knew it would hurt.
Moving one's teeth can't be a pleasant feeling.
My husband had had one when he was younger
and sadly in no way sugar coated what it would feel like.
I believe the words "worst pain ever" came out of his mouth.
Each night, you have to take a tool (called a key) and turn it.
This pushes the teeth out and expands the jaw (hence the name).

Ugh.
There was no way my husband would turn the key...
He said he'd turn it maybe a week or so later when it no longer hurt as much.
And so I prepared myself.
To hurt our son.
21 turns.

I was so fearful before that first turn.  
He got ice cream.
I had wine.
And we did it together.
He held the side of his face as he felt the pressure and tumbled into my arms the moment it was over.
And we just sat there.
Holding each other.

Dare I say it was nice?
I don't recall the last time my ten year old son climbed into my arms, on my lap and I just held him.

And so this has gone on~
16 turns.
16 nights.
And each one ends with him climbing into my lap and me holding him.

Tonight after I turned the key and he crawled into my lap I said, "Joey, does it still hurt?"
He looked up at me, smiled and said, "Not really..."
He folded back into my lap and I held him there as I have every night for the last 16 nights.
I won't let my husband turn the key.
I now look forward to an excuse for my ten year old to still need to cuddle his mom.

As he sat there tonight I thought of how blessed I was~
And Andrew was there.
Joey became a reminder...
And I wondered~
What would Andrew's laughter sound like?
What toppings would he want on his ice cream?
At ten, would he have crawled into my arms and found comfort?
Just like his brother?

And tonight I realized...
It doesn't matter.
Though there will be times that Andrew comes into my thoughts.
That I compare and wonder.
Tonight~
I will just treasure what he gave me.
Jonasen.

A few weeks after I delivered Andrew and Jonasen, I asked my doctor,
"Why did you have me come in a week early to be induced?"
(my pregnancy was perfect and she was going to let me go two weeks late)
Her reply, "God just put you in my head."

Andrew died the day I delivered him.  They could tell by his coloring.
Like Andrew, Jonasen was wrapped in so much cord. 
Had we waited, this post would not exist.
There would be no living, breathing reminder.

So today, as Jonasen sat so warm and lovingly on my lap~
As we just held each other~
I didn't wonder about Andrew.
Instead
I thanked him.
For my sweet Joey.

2 comments:

  1. Your posts never cease to amaze me and take me to a place that I've never been. Thank you for writing such heartfelt posts with so much grace and letting me share in your pain and understanding. ((HUGS))

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Debby for always leaving a comment! I appreciate the feedback and that you enjoy my posts! (((hugs))) L

      Delete

Your thoughts?