103.8

My baby is burning with fever.

He whimpers, restless…

I try everything I know

To soothe him, comfort him

Ease his pain

But I am helpless.

He reaches out to me, desperately

Pulls me close

Then pushes me away

Lies down

Gets back up

Picks up toys and puts them down

He doesn’t know what he wants…

Just that the pain should go away

I stand, holding him close

In his dark room

My mind is sluggish

I have been up far too long..

But he needs me,

So I am here…

His head is heavy,

Limp on my shoulder

His face nestled into the hollow of my neck

His skin, like coals

Burns mine

And he cries. 

And I cannot console him.

And then I understand

Maybe a little bit better….

I think of the parent

The Tatty

Who watches

While His beloved children are burning

Burning up

With baseless hate

And with self destruction

And with emptiness

And we cry

Whimper, restless…

Call out for comfort,

To be soothed

For this Pain to lessen

But we cannot be consoled.

And we keep crying…

We reach out, desperately

We pull Him close

And then push Him away

We fall

We get back up

We try and distract

And we realize we can’t..

We don’t even know what we want

Just…that the pain…should go…away…

But He stands

Holding us

In this dark, dark room.

It is too late; things have stopped making sense

But we need Him

Oh, how we need Him

And He is there…

………………….

Today my baby woke up

With a watery smile,

His skin cool to the touch

I whisper my quiet Thanks upward

And move on to start my day… 

Oh, for the day

To be free of this fire

May it come speedily in our days…

Brave...

I never thought of myself as brave

I’m just a regular kinda person

Well,

I’m not afraid of bugs, or dogs, or heights

Or blood, or flying, or speaking up in public

But I never saw myself as particularly brave

I wonder…

Would I drop everything and run

into a blazing building to save a child?

I’d like to think so, but if I had to be honest

I think I’m the type to freeze up and just stand there staring, horrified,

While others rush around helping and doing and saving

Would I hold onto my beliefs and affirm my trust in G-d

And rather be burned by the stake than denounce my faith?

I wish I could give a resounding YES…

But how could I know that for sure?

Would I be willing to donate a kidney

       to a complete stranger?

Would I have the courage to enter the gas chambers with my head held high,

       still believing in His goodness?

Would I make the split-second decision to run in front of a truck

       to save a little child?

Would I behave like the people on Flight 93

       if I found myself faced with a terrorist?

Would I act like my grandfather did

       as he ran from the Nazis?

...

I have never been tested in such big ways.

But

I’ve been told that I’m brave.

That facing my fears and doing what needs to be done

       is brave

That by taking up my tiny dagger against the huge and terrifying monster…

And not hiding from myself

And not lying to myself

And taking that leap into the abyss

And trusting that this fall is what needs to be done…

And believing that He knows what’s best for me

And loves me

And won’t let me die…

And putting all my energy and strength and faith and sweat and blood and tears

Into this task that seems so incredibly impossible…

And waking up every morning with the decision to keep doing this…

And still moving forward

With a smile

And a thin but unwavering song woven tightly around my heart

Even when life comes again to smack me in the face…

………That by doing all this………

I am being

         So

     Unbelievably

             Brave.

Bliss

My whole being is on fire. The love courses through my veins, pulsing hot and thick, making my limbs tremble.

He sits, heavy in my lap, drowsy and weighted, his hair smelling of sweetness and standing out in puffy spikes like it does after each bath. He gives a contented sigh and melts in further, nuzzling his cheek against the soft of my sweatshirt and letting his eyes close.

There were hard days and long nights. A thousand dreams were born and died, a thousand tears traced letters down my face and into my arms. A million whispered, feverish prayers, a lifetime of yearning…

And now, this. This moment, this golden boy, this gift beyond all the fleeting dreams I ever had. I look into his face, trace the lines on his eyelids, feel the soft warmth of his sleeping breath. He is alive, warm and heavy, and my breath catches.

There will doubtless still be hard days and long nights. There might be times of whispered conversations with G-d and days of tears and longing. But right now, holding this living, breathing, wondrous gift, holding him tight and feeling his aliveness with every heartbeat…this is tasting a tiny bit of gan eden.

I am a mommy.