Connections to the Man Upstairs...

I got a call from my sister-in-law, Ellen yesterday afternoon. Apparently my niece, Jessica (Ellen's stepdaughter) had a pretty big scare yesterday. Dacodah-- my new grand-niece, Ellen's grand daughter, Jessica's daughter--stopped breathing twice yesterday. The kind of stopped where her little face was blue, and her body went limp. Scary. Jess was airlifted to UCLA Medical Center, and the doctors ran a gauntlet of tests to see what the deal was. At the end of it, they couldn't find anything really wrong, and Jess and Dacodah went home yesterday evening. So my request is for those of you with connections to the Powers That Be, if you wouldn't mind throwing in an extra prayer or two to make sure that Dacodah is okay, that would be great. Two week old babies shouldn't have to worry about whether or not their breathing apparatus is working correctly. That should be a part of the warranty, you know?

The phone call got me to thinking though. On a completely selfish level, Jess' experience made me concerned about my own future. Tony and I are not all that far away from starting our own family. When I think about having kids, I always think about the good stuff. I remember the moments of absolute sublime sweetness of holding one of my little cousins, or one of my friends' kids and rocking them to sleep, smelling their head, their little hands and feet. My heart melts, my uterus contracts, and I can barely stay inside of my skin thinking about how badly I want to be a mom. What I don't usually think about is all the scary stuff. The things that can keep a girl up a night, drenched in a cold sweat from the fear and horror of something (anything) going incalculably wrong. S&@t happens, and while I'd like to think that I am a 'roll with the punches' kind of gal, I'm usually not. What is more, is that I COULDN'T be if something as terrible as what might have, could have, happened to baby Dacodah. I've been a spectator into my friend, Andrea's life with her son, and she's SO calm and collected most of the time that you would hardly know that Drew has any problems at all. She is the kind of mom I would like to be some day.

I'm not really sure where I am going with this one, to be honest. Just some general musings that have been swirling around upstairs that I needed to expunge. I am thinking that this has turned into my new journal, a sort of virtual catharsis, and so in keeping with tradition, I needed to make my entry for the day. Keep Dacodah in your thoughts, as well as her mommy. While you're at it, send a shout-out for Drew and Andrea as well (he's on day 21 of his hospital stay....its starting to be REALLY not fun anymore). Happy Friday to everyone, and I will talk to you next time around.