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sharp turns.

May 21, 2011

I woke up late Friday morning, with 30 minutes to prepare for the work day.  I woke up late Friday morning, with a fire breathing anger.

At Chris, because we hadn’t really spoken in over 24 hours and unhealthy emotions build up that way.  At the virus that has been attacking my son for nearly two weeks and the understanding that I now have no idea how to help him get better.  At the empty moving boxes in my car I didn’t want to bring inside.  At Chris. At the weather. At my busy day.  And also, at Chris.

By mid morning I had let the anger and envy and fear completely take me on a cruise control road trip of turmoil.  It was ugly in my head.  So to combat, I took out an empty notepad and my favorite sparkle gel pen (as a throw back to junior high) and began prayer journaling.  At my desk.  It’s still there.  Just in case the cleaning crew needed a little dose of manic encouragement.

At lunch I headed out to our office in the city.  On the way I called my sons doctor to give an update on his health, or lack there of.  And when they called back to finally give me permission to begin worrying, my emotions had taken a sharp turn to tears.  And the tears did come.  Unusual for me.  Not for the situation.  I called my boss and my husband.  Both to let them know my work day was over.  I needed to be a mommy now.

I cried through both phone conversations.  The first one I said “I’m nearing the edge”.  The second, “I’m over the edge”.  I stopped by the hospital and picked up 4 at home lab tests for my little man.

By the time I was west bound toward home, the edge was a faint pixel in my review mirror.

I spent the next 7 hours elbow deep in baby poop.  The directions from the lab stated that all samples must be gathered without contamination of any kind.  Meaning  I couldn’t just scoop it out of the diaper.  It must be collected in dry plastic.  Brilliantly I fashioned a saran wrap poo catcher, that was unsuccessful nearly the entire day. And finally, after a long brainstorming session with another mom, we came up with something I belive could forever change the face of baby poo catching.

this photo may have been texted to several people with
varying captions all of which will probably be unforgivable should 
Judah ever discover this as an adult. 

The 1 gallon plastic storage bag diaper.  It was especially tailored and fit for comfort.  And totally unsuccessful.  I think it may have worked if he would have ever pooped while wearing it.  It just never happened and I eventually removed it so he could sleep in comfort.  But I think, under the right circumstances, it would have been incredibly innovative and possibly won me a nobel peace prize.  Because I’ve never needed a solution so bad to something so disturbing as I did last night.

To end this day, after my little man was in bed and my bigger man was comfortably home from an evening away with a friend, I left to be colorful and crafty with my sister in law and future landlord Kelli.

From anger to tears to poop to at peace.   In 24 hours.  I missed a few meals and lost a little dignity.  But truth revealed I don’t need either.

I needed to pray and be a mom and find peace in painting. And all those sharp turns led me to right where I needed to land.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Amber permalink
    May 21, 2011 11:09 am

    Your patience, fortitude, and honest evaluation of life: amazing. Thank you for sharing and scribing the very emotions that moms and wives encounter. I will be praying for your little man.

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