I'm now thirty-five weeks pregnant with twins--a boy and a girl. We are very excited and they could come any day. Most excited of all is big-sister Mira, who calls them "my babies," and "Mickey and Minnie" and has been practicing everything from shushing and bouncing them to sleep to "breast feeding," which she has intuited, takes a while. (Example: Me: "Mira, time for a bath." Mira: "I can't come now--I'm breastfeeding my babies--it's going to take a while.")
The anticipated addition of two whole new, small people to our family has been the cause of tons of transition around here lately--most noticeably, I went from being a court-room litigator of last resort for those condemned to death to being a stay-at-home mom about a month ago. Mira changed schools. Our house has been rearranged, and Peter, mostly, has been our rock through it all, not getting near enough sleep as he cares for his girls and juggles his own litigation practice. Having been out of work for about a month now, though, this week I finally felt we were rounding the corner, finally felt that things were calming down, finally felt a sense of peace and readiness to become a family of five. . . in short, I was feeling tired and worn out from the pregnancy, but up to the task of being the mom.
Until today. . .
I have been having a hard time sleeping in these last few weeks of pregnancy, but I had a good sleep last night. Nonetheless, I usually wake up groggy and slightly grumpy--even more so in pregnancy--and today was no different. Today was a big day, though, because I was (ironically, just as I was "leaning back" from my career) being honored as one of my university's top 40 alumni under the age of 40. My mom and dad were coming up for the "40 Under 40" ceremony; I had a sitter arranged; Peter's court calendar had cleared so he could be there; it was going to be a beautiful day and a nice capstone to my career thus far before the babies came.
Mira also woke up feeling a little recalcitrant, it seems, but I didn't want to push her because I knew I was leaving her with a babysitter in the middle of the day for the ceremony--we had breakfast on her schedule, got dressed on her schedule, went potty on her schedule--all of which led me to be running a bit late. I was just about to finish getting her ready--last task, combing hair--when she bolted and I grabbed her hand to keep her from bolting and she kept running and then she screamed, "Ow! Mommy!" and started to cry, big fat tears rolling down her perfect little cheeks. She clutched her elbow and did not want me to pick her up at first. I went to get ice, coaxed her onto my lap, and talked softly to her, telling her I was sorry. At first, I figured, she'd be better in a minute, but as five minutes turned into fifteen and then into twenty-five, I began panicking. Her left arm hung limply at her side and she refused to move it. When I tried to move it, she whimpered. That's when I began to cry--how could I have hurt my own daughter like this? I didn't mean to. . .I have grabbed her at least a 100 times when she's bolted like that--why was this different?
So, when my parents showed up, expecting a celebration, instead they found Mira bravely propped up on my bed with a pack of ice and her favorite bear and me still in my PJs, which now do not cover my tummy, a weeping mess. My mom is a nurse and confirmed my suspicions that we needed to head to the ER. She kept my daughter calm while the whole time, driving to the ER, I was freaking out, anticipating (with some paranoia, I'll admit) that I would have to interview with child protective services and potentially they would try to take Mira away from me, or put us on some sort of probation. They were going to see my pregnant belly and think that I did not deserve these babies either. Worse, in that moment, I also felt that way.
We got to the ER and checked in. I noticed that most of the people in the ER were people waiting for routine things--strep tests, a child's cough, an ear infection--in short, I saw firsthand that the daytime ER is largely for the uninsured. Because we are lucky enough to have insurance, I called our pediatrician (which I was not thinking clearly enough to have done before) and described to her what happened. She said to come on over. After a short wait for the charge nurse, who wanted to make sure we were "safe to go," we (my mom, my dad, Mira and I) left for our pediatrician's office, where my husband met us with lunch, as we were now missing the "40 Under 40" lunch.
While I was checking us in to the pediatrician's, I noticed that Mira had started to really play with some of the toys in the waiting room. Then, when we were called back, she lifted a heavy bag we had with us and carried it back to the exam room with her hurt arm! Now, I started to feel silly for having brought her in the first place. But, our wonderful doctor confirmed that Mira had had a condition called "nursemaid's elbow" and that her son had had it when he was younger, too, because she had swung him around too vigorously by his hands while playing with him. Apparently, toddlers' elbow ligaments are not as fixed as grown people's and can slip off the elbow (causing pain) and back on if the child moves around. I was so relieved--both that Mira was better, but that this wise, wonderful woman could also have inadvertently done this to her child. Surely, this meant that I was not the terrible mother I feared I was.
We finally got home and my parents thought that my husband and I should try to go to the luncheon while they stayed with Mira, so we did. . . .getting there in time to miss everything. I still got my award and my picture taken; they were gracious enough to give us some leftover lunch, but it really was not the same.
And, here's the truth: my life really is not the same as before and it's going to change even more when the twins get here and I'm not half or even a quarter as adjusted to it as I thought I was. Here I was, so caught up with my schedule and needing everything to be "just so," that I grabbed my daughter and hurt her arm over brushing hair. Now, I did not do this on purpose and I didn't think she'd keep running and I was shocked that it happened (though, apparently nursemaid's elbow is very common: http://kidshealth.org/parent/medical/bones/nursemaid.html), but ultimately as the parent, it is my job to keep her safe and I failed today. I just thank goodness it wasn't worse.
I have had problems with flexibility and adapting to change and unexpected bumps in life's road since I was my daughter's age. An iconic story in my family is about how, when I was around the age of five or six, my mom used to drop eggs on the floor on purpose while I was watching and then be totally non-chalant about it as a way to get me to see that mistakes are okay. I know this in theory and am very forgiving of most others, but not with myself. For my entire scholastic and professional career, I have held myself to a different standard. And now, with three little ones, I am going to have to come to terms with not always being on time; not always being nicely dressed; not always getting a lot done; relinquishing substantial control over the shape and content of my days; and, being okay with all of this. I think it is going to be the biggest challenge of my life and I wonder if I'm up to it. I want to be.
Maybe life has a way of teaching each of us what we need to learn and I think part of my life journey is to learn flexibility and to not freak out when things don't go according to my plan. I don't know why I haven't been able to do so yet in all these years. I am glad that big sister Mira alerted me today that I have a lot of work to do on all of this before the babies get here
