Chubbs fell out of the Crib
Addison flipped out of her crib this morning.
Onto her head.
The sound of her tiny body thumping against the wood floor in the sickening finality of an unplanned landing is a sound that this Momma will never forget.
Her screams of terror that followed shortly after painfully hit my heart that was already twisting dangerously.
I ran to get to her- to lovingly scoop her battered body off of the floor and comfort her chubby self with kisses full of soothing balm.
My baby was hurt.
I needed the comfort just about as much as she did.
And no, this did not happen because her mattress wasn't low enough...or that we forgot to put up the extra side rail.
We did everything we could to protect our little girl, but for some reason the side rail malfunctioned.
She stood up to it as she always does, and it gave way- effectively pitching her innocent little body onto the floor.
Landing on her head.
I can't help but remember when I was 20 weeks pregnant with Addison.
I was told by a very grave doctor that something was wrong with my baby- she would never lead a normal life- she would never be the beautiful baby that I was envisioning- she would never be the child that two young parents asked for.
I spent long weeks hating the thing that I was forced to grow in my uterus. I didn't ask for it. I didn't want it.
I didn't want to be the mother of a retarded baby.
I prayed to a God full of mercy that he would take my baby. Allow this to end peacefully so that we could cry tears of anguish for the baby that we had lost and then move on in hopes to conceive a normal child.
In my opinion it wasn't fair that I was the 25 yr old who had made all of the right choices and yet still was being punished with a defective baby.
It wasn't fair.
To me at that time, almost two years ago, the death of my child would have been a welcome release from the sure hell that my life would become to have a child with Down syndrome.
But today when I heard her sweet little head land in such an ungracious manner on the cruelly hard floor and her cries for help that broke my heart, I knew that to lose her would be to lose the most precious thing in my life.
My little Chubbs...
...the most perfect little baby I could have ever asked for and who has brought more happiness, joy and laughter to our lives than we ever could have dreamed back when we decided to give the whole parenting thing a try.
It's amazing how God knew what was best for our family. How he knew the exact path that would bring us the most joy and peace.
And I fought against it because I thought I knew better.
How wrong I was.
so very, very wrong.
Today as I hold my baby extra close (checking frequently for signs for a concussion), my heart is overflowing with thankfulness.
For Addison's extra thick skull, for the floor that apparently softened just as she fell on it, and most importantly,
for a God who gives us truly only the best.
Trying to edit my book, putting together a nursery that is nowhere near to even being started, being hit with too many Braxton Hicks contractions for my peace of mind-
I needed the reminder today that I'm not in control, (although I really wish I had just read it on somebody's fb status instead of having my baby put in harm's way)
My little miracle baby just notched another survival onto her list of close calls.
Sometimes it's truly eye opening to look back and realize how much my mindset has changed
and how my baby is growing into a toddler.
and how I could not possibly be more proud of my baby even though she isn't talking, walking, singing and dancing.
She is.
And that's enough for me.
Onto her head.
The sound of her tiny body thumping against the wood floor in the sickening finality of an unplanned landing is a sound that this Momma will never forget.
Her screams of terror that followed shortly after painfully hit my heart that was already twisting dangerously.
I ran to get to her- to lovingly scoop her battered body off of the floor and comfort her chubby self with kisses full of soothing balm.
My baby was hurt.
I needed the comfort just about as much as she did.
And no, this did not happen because her mattress wasn't low enough...or that we forgot to put up the extra side rail.
We did everything we could to protect our little girl, but for some reason the side rail malfunctioned.
She stood up to it as she always does, and it gave way- effectively pitching her innocent little body onto the floor.
Landing on her head.
I can't help but remember when I was 20 weeks pregnant with Addison.
I was told by a very grave doctor that something was wrong with my baby- she would never lead a normal life- she would never be the beautiful baby that I was envisioning- she would never be the child that two young parents asked for.
I spent long weeks hating the thing that I was forced to grow in my uterus. I didn't ask for it. I didn't want it.
I didn't want to be the mother of a retarded baby.
I prayed to a God full of mercy that he would take my baby. Allow this to end peacefully so that we could cry tears of anguish for the baby that we had lost and then move on in hopes to conceive a normal child.
In my opinion it wasn't fair that I was the 25 yr old who had made all of the right choices and yet still was being punished with a defective baby.
It wasn't fair.
To me at that time, almost two years ago, the death of my child would have been a welcome release from the sure hell that my life would become to have a child with Down syndrome.
But today when I heard her sweet little head land in such an ungracious manner on the cruelly hard floor and her cries for help that broke my heart, I knew that to lose her would be to lose the most precious thing in my life.
My little Chubbs...
...the most perfect little baby I could have ever asked for and who has brought more happiness, joy and laughter to our lives than we ever could have dreamed back when we decided to give the whole parenting thing a try.
It's amazing how God knew what was best for our family. How he knew the exact path that would bring us the most joy and peace.
And I fought against it because I thought I knew better.
How wrong I was.
so very, very wrong.
Today as I hold my baby extra close (checking frequently for signs for a concussion), my heart is overflowing with thankfulness.
For Addison's extra thick skull, for the floor that apparently softened just as she fell on it, and most importantly,
for a God who gives us truly only the best.
Trying to edit my book, putting together a nursery that is nowhere near to even being started, being hit with too many Braxton Hicks contractions for my peace of mind-
I needed the reminder today that I'm not in control, (although I really wish I had just read it on somebody's fb status instead of having my baby put in harm's way)
My little miracle baby just notched another survival onto her list of close calls.
Sometimes it's truly eye opening to look back and realize how much my mindset has changed
and how my baby is growing into a toddler.
and how I could not possibly be more proud of my baby even though she isn't talking, walking, singing and dancing.
She is.
And that's enough for me.