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LilZ broke his arm when he was four and he required a surgery to insert pins to assure proper healing. After the surgery he was given morphine – and we learned he was allergic as he spent the next several hours puking violently. They admitted us overnight to make sure he got enough fluids. I was quite scared, that being my first hospital experience with my child. They put us in the pediatric wing and I curled up into bed with my child who had one arm in a sling and cast and another attached to an IV. I wrapped him as carefully as I could in my arms and dozed off an on between checks of his vitals. I remember thinking that – in that moment – I was feeling several extremes of motherhood. The fear that comes with a sick child and the associated shocking vulnerability that comes with loving someone unconditionally. But you also feel the strength in yourself as a parent when your child needs you. The relief in knowing it will be okay. I had been running on little sleep as I was in the middle of a semester at school and had been organizing big events at my part-time job. Yet there I was…giving my child what little energy I had left…and digging deep in the reserves saved just for him. To give him as much as he needed. Motherhood to the extreme in a moment.

NikkiZ had a bad stomach bug once. She was up puking all night but was too young to control the when or the where of the vomiting. She and I slept on the floor of the kitchen so that no beds or carpet would be ruined with each spew. Once or twice early on, I let her vomit on me, knowing my clothes would be easy to change. She liked the feel of the cool tile so I slept beside her and took advantage of the proximity of the sink to wipe her head with fresh towels whenever she needed. Again: Simultaneous Extremes. The feeling of helplessness as I could do nothing to stop the puking, nothing to make her feel better, knowing in that misery I could do nothing but be there for her. But there was also the pride that comes with the feeling of sacrifice as I gave up every comfort I could possibly want in order to give my daughter just a minuscule of her own comfort. Seeing in myself the ability to put her needs so far ahead of mine that I was willingly letting her puke on me while sleeping on a tile floor. That is a shocking selflessness I often forget is there in the day-to-day motherhood, but I was proud it was there so that I could be what my daughter needed in those moments…pushing the needs of my own body aside.

This weekend, AndyZ found himself suffering from leg cramps/growing pains. He was inconsolable and just whined and moaned and rubbed his leg for large chunks of time. While I found myself partially wanting him to JUST BE QUIET ALREADY…I still tried whatever I could to soothe him. I carried him everywhere. We bounched. We sang. Eventually, I discovered that rocking in the rocking chair on the front porch calmed his frantic screaming. We rocked back and forth listening to the soothing rain. Then, the rain got harder and harder and within minutes I found myself getting soaked from the knees down as every time we rocked backwards, the bottom half of my legs stretched just enough out form under the awning that the rain would get me. Did I move? No. Did I stop? Of course not. Simultaneous Extremes: The feeling of bitterness as your child’s needs get met before your own (AGAIN), alongside the feeling of pride in self that I could so easily put his feelings before my own. The helplessness knowing you are unable to really make the pain go away, but pride in finding at least a few peaceful motions can give momentary peace. And giggling at how silly I must look getting half soaked while rocking my child and singing in my god-given dreadful voice. I thought about the symbolism in the dichotomy of the moment. Rocking back and forth…wet and dry…kissing his head and rubbing his leg the entire time. Thinking about how blessed I am to feel those extremes. Thinking about the lessons those extremes teach me both about how vulnerable and helpless I am – but also how strong and selfless I can be.