I sat in the lobby of the surgical center yesterday watching Dixon play with a really cool Little Tykes kitchen. We had to go in for dental work. He’s the fourth who’s had early issues with dental caries. Something I feel embarrassed writing because of the stigma of tooth decay and what we feed our children. But we sat there at 6am, waiting for Doctor Carlos, praying that his teeth weren’t infected and watching other families walk in the doors so very early in the morning. One by one, families filed in. Checking in at the desk. Some with one child and some with many. Dixon played happily beside a little girl and her much older brother who looked to be about Davis’ age. I could see he had some delay, I suspect autism but I am not a doctor and it really isn’t my place to assume. He was kind and curious and I enjoyed watching them all play.
When it was our time to go back, it was his too. And while we sat and played with toys, I listened as the staff and family pleaded with this young man to take the medicine to start anestesia. He refused, over and over. And my heart broke for them knowing what I knew was coming next.
I handed my little baby over to the nurse and walked out and watched a tearful mom give the okay to force the meds into her child.
You could hear him crying in the lobby and I couldn’t help but feel her pain. To be a mama, making these choices for a boy who couldn’t himself. Listening to him cry was awful for ME, I cannot imagine how awful it was for her. And I sat there and watched the lobby grimace and cringe and comment and I just wanted to hug her and tell her, “we are all in this together”… even though I know, sometimes we’re not.
My 20 month old didn’t cry. He didn’t make a sound. He went peacefully into the arms of nurses and smiled with a fat, swollen face as I walked in the door when the procedure was done. I was glad he was okay but I wondered how the other mama was and I regret not talking to her before I left. I was eager to pick up my child and forgot briefly about hers.
I wanted to be her village. I wanted to be part of her tribe, even if it was for that day.
Motherhood is lonely enough. It’s especially lonely for me sometimes because I struggle with interactions and overthinking. I’m uncomfortable with myself, it’s a shame. My earth mother inside wants to love everyone but I am often caught up in my own issues and worry that instead of doing the good I want, I am just eating shoe leather. Because let’s face it, I am the queen of putting my foot in my own mouth. I have a heart for people but sometimes it’s really locked inside my chest. I am eager to please but easily hurt. Willing to give but often used. And I get stuck in things and I am sure that exhausts people. I just don’t know how to get out of them.
But I think often about why people are so awful to each other? And it’s not just mothers. It’s everyone.
Bleeding heart I guess.
I am often disgusted at how people behave. I think I may need to ground myself from Facebook. I rely on it for social interaction (hello introvert who needs a friend, paradise) but I just can’t handle some of it anymore. Watching how gross people act and how close minded they can be. It’s disheartening especially when I know these people know we’re suppose to love one another…. even when we don’t like each other. I’m sure I’ve alienated myself from friends from stupid facebook share. In fact, I am sure of it. It’s apparent when people stop responding. When the calls stop and when the messages and what not go unanswered. We ALL have to start thinking about what we post, what we share and if it’s worth clicking that stupid button. I need to think about it too.
It’s a tough place. Tough indeed.