Trying To Be Super Mom

I parented hard in the last two days, so much, that when my husband called me supermom tonight it felt good to hear. I just got my tiniest human down at ten twenty-seven pm. For the last day and a half we had to manage through RSV and bronchitis.

We were between hospital and home starting at night again in the morning to return due to my eighteen months old laboured breathing. His fever soared to high temps of 39.4 degrees Celsius with no sign of relief. We have been here once before when Max was six months of age. Last time we had this he stayed one week on the pediatrics ward of the Guelph Hospital. Recognizing the signs this time around I’m glad we took a pro active approach.

Going through this again was draining on my emotions and my ability to feel like I was doing my job as his mother. When we had to do his x-ray and nebulizer I felt like the worse mother who existed. The x-ray for infants and toddlers seems like torture devices. As I put on my lead vest, placing my baby into the tube holding his arms above his head, he screamed so loud. I felt so useless, the only words I could say to him was I’m sorry. Tears streamed down both our eyes. I would never cause my children pain and seeing him in distress tore my heart out. I know that these treatments are to help him but non the less I wish I could have stolen his pain away and made his world harm free.

Not my child but a picture to show the x-ray tube. Instead of a calm baby shown here Max was screaming. His looked terrified. I think this was the second moment in the hospital I felt like a failure.

The moment that hit me the hardest was trying to place a nebulizing mask on my sons face. As advised from the nurses I had to hold my son down and keep the mask on his face. The first nurse left Max and I to our own devices. Maximus with his strength of fifty babies on steroids; fought hard like Muhammad Ali in the ring, left me feeling defeated. I was thankful another nurse took sympathy and held the mask while I tried to wrangle Maximus to stay still. Essentially I channelled my inner Steve Irwin and crocodile wrested my stressed toddler. In these moments I felt so primal that afterwards I wanted to break.

This emotional ride of Maximus being sick has left me feeling defeated. I waited for the cab for thirty minutes with him sleeping in my arms. From the wheezy breath sounds and small whimpers escaping from his lips I had a moment of panic. How can I be a good mother when all I wanted to do was get home and cry. I felt utterly selfish at this moment, I wanted to be a good mother but instead I thought of myself.

Since we got home he was given a plethora of medication, adding to the layers of distress. After napping with Max to monitor his breathing I put on Thomas the Train and took a shower. I got my moment of clarity that even feeling defeated is part of the mother package. Being alone today and handling a sick child was my wake up call that even with life throwing some serious wrenches I can do this. When my husband called me supermom; I choked back my tears of self-doubt, and plan to hold on a little longer.

This is a stepping stone in learning motherhood. I can either sink or swim or roll with the punches. I sit here typing feeling relieved to know my baby will be OK, all of this will be OK. My muscles may be sore from rocking my child, my body tired from the last day and half, but I feel clear in how much I love my children and what it takes to make sure they have a mother that cares. I will give one supermom moment at a time until my last breath.

Written by: Ali Johnson

My husband The Caveman, Mr Max, and myself.

I spy our love.

In this picture it shows my husband and I getting our first pair of glasses together. He chose mine and I chose his. In the background is our lovely eight old boy. On this day we laughed until happy tears fell from our eyes. I hope everyone enjoyed this small blog written to show that every family has it's moments. 
With Love,
Aleszandria

 

I spy two people, two beating hearts, and six years together. I see a couple raising two children with loss of sanity. This man took down my walls even though I thought they were as tough a Superman. Six years ago he gave me a chance to show my true self. Six years later I spy two couples being exactly where they need to be granted the universe gave challenges to separate them. With every challenge popping up like kennel corn these two people grabbed a figurative bowl and chowed down. I see two people who will forever stand together united even though one of them is ridiculously hard to love.

This couple in the picture looks normal what you don’t see is they have struggled. They struggle with autism in their eldest child. They struggle to show the world that their son sees the world uniquely. On days with meltdowns and hidden struggles the man in this photo is our rock. The woman in the photo tries to hold everyone together whiles sometimes she falls apart. The other child can be so caring, yet he is a crazy feral toddler. His world presents so different from his brothers but the couple here will love him to the ends of the world. This couple in the photo will not show how they struggle hard in the role of parenting two wild boys. What I see when I look at it is two parents teaching love and patience.

They have struggled to fight hard to survive in the world they live in today. Their motto “embrace the chaos” suits them so well. This couple still wishes for normalcy further down their road to forever but for right now they will fight the good fight knowing how delicate they are. They stand on the ball of life balancing what they can. They have to act selflessly right now to grow seeds of love in their children’s minds. I spy two people watering and providing the essence of life growing the family garden with two beautiful tiny humans in tow.

I spy struggles, challenges, and hopes given out by these two people. I spy beyond this photo everything will be OK. Grabbing my telescope I spot two people who are going to make it.

Written by Ali Johnson