Yesterday was so perfect. It was a beautiful day, Brandon got to come home for lunch, I got a lot of cleaning done, and we got to see our beautiful son's face for the first time!
Say hello to Mr. Tyson Lee Sillivan!
Of course, our little stud was super stubborn and refused to put his arms down or turn to a position where we could get a good look at him so this was the best picture we got. I get Round 2 with my little man and his perfect profile on Monday morning.
That night, Brandon and I ate dinner, watched a little tv, and were in bed at about 10 p.m. We fell asleep talking about Ty and his cuteness and our dreams for him (which is pretty much how we always fall asleep these days).
But then, at about 3 a.m. I woke up from being so uncomfortable and hot. I got up, checked the thermostat (which was on 65) and just as I was about to get back into bed, the nauseousness hit. Mind you, I haven't felt nauseous since my first trimester... and only once during that entire period did it wake me up from my slumber. I instantly ran to the guest bathroom because I knew that Brandon had an important day the next morning and needed a good night's sleep. And the sickness came on. I stared into that toilet bowl for what felt like an eternity... only leaving it to get a glass of water and a pillow. Just when I thought I was beginning to feel a bit better, I'd lay on the cold tile in my misery and then a second, third, and fourth wave of nauseousness would hit.
At about 4:30 a.m. I felt defeated and was pushed to my brink. The tears came and I sat there on the bathroom floor sobbing and dry heaving and feeling not much aside from self-pity. And at that moment I wished for my mom.
I know, even then I felt a little silly. My husband was asleep in a room less than 15 feet away from me and he would have gladly held my hair back and calmed me down if I would have just woken him up. And it's not like me being sick away from home was something new... I haven't lived at home in almost 7 years. But I couldn't help it... in that particular moment, there wasn't much I wanted more. I may have even called her if my phone hadn't been in the bedroom and I wouldn't have been terrified of projectile vomiting everywhere the moment I stood up. So instead, I did the next best thing and cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor.
This morning, when Brandon woke up and I told him about my terrible night (after getting mad at me for not waking him), he admitted that he, too, sometimes wished for his mom when he wasn't feeling well. He confessed that just last week when he had a sinus infection and strep throat at the same time, he had wished his mom lived closer so that she could care for him (I had done my best to nurse him back to health but the man was milking his illness a little much in my opinion...) and it made me wonder, what is it about a mom that can instantly comfort us?
Will I get this mommy healing power once Ty is born? Will he come running to me to kiss his boo-boos and dry his tears? I've seen myself as a lot of things but maternal has never really been one of them. In fact, when our dogs start acting ill, I just get hysterical. Brandon's usually the level-headed one who knows all the tricks in the book to get their little tails wagging again. Will it just come to me like everyone keeps saying it will? Like the moment Ty is born, this secret chamber in my brain that houses all the remedies in the world will just open up and I'll be all like "Eureka! The child is crying! Bring him an antacid and lay him on his belly!" That'd be awesome... but I'm thinking it probably won't happen. (Actually... an antacid and being laid on his belly would probably be the worst thing you could do... come to think of it.)
Fact of the matter is... I know nothing about babies. Or what to do when they're crying. But I do know that my mom does. So thank God she's only a phone call away because I certainly won't be afraid to call her at 4 a.m. when it comes to my little man. And maybe I'll pick up a few tricks of the trade and learn a little somethin-somethin too.