Draw of a straw

I find it interesting how memories can be tied to the oddest things - a certain piece of cloth, a smell in the air, some trigger that takes you back in a way that merely remembering something independent of external stimuli can't emulate. In many cases, the triggers appear randomly without any suggestion that you're about to be reminded of another day and time. You open a drawer, turn a corner or merely look at something differently and synapses fire back to old, dusty memories at the recesses of your brain.

Today, I held my 3 year old and felt the stirrings of old times as I watched him sipping his milk from a cup. I don't know how many times a day I watch him drinking from his cup or, more specifically, with a straw but something about how I was holding him, how tired he looked triggered memories of a time before the twins were born and I was in the hospital.

Not unlike many moms pregnant with twins, my body wanted to go into labor before it was in our babies' best interest. At 30 weeks, I started having regular contractions, had a positive fetal fibronectin and was dilating. My doctor admitted me after a routine check up and I stayed in the hospital for 4 weeks. At the time, Neil was approaching 2 years old.

Although 4 weeks is a long time for an adult to be in the hospital, it was an even longer time for Neil to be away from his mommy (I did see him a few times while I was there) and a long time for me to be away from my son. While enduring the constant monitoring, the isolation, the discomfort and medications that were administered, I focused my energy on getting through the experience with as positive and strong an attitude as I could muster. With the exception of a few incidences where we were very concerned about the welfare of the twins, my strength only dissolved when I thought of my sweet, darling Neil who I missed so much.

While I was in the hospital, I missed our baby shower. All our friends came and had a party without me. My husband even had to leave the party early because of concerns that labor wasn't going to be averted. Thankfully, it did. Also, we were fortunate to have many caring family members and friends there to support us during such a tumultuous time. A day or so later, my mother-in-law brought pictures from the shower.

I enjoyed looking through all the photos, seeing my friends having fun in our house, seeing my family talking with my friends and seeing the children playing together. When I got to one picture, though, of Neil drinking with a straw my heartstrings were strummed. Before I left for the hospital, he wasn't using a straw. Here he was not only using a straw but he looked like he'd been doing it for a while and he looked so grown. I felt so absent from him at that moment, like a parent who has died and can't see, smell and touch their own child. He was out of my grasp and living his life without me and it made me sad. It also made me proud of him though to see him doing something new, to see him turning into a bigger boy. I just wanted to be there too and I couldn't.

Before the twins were born, it was Neil and I. Of course, Chris was part of the whole equation but I spent more time with Neil than anyone and vice verse. I won't pretend that it was always a blast and that he never drove me nuts as kids can do, but we had a solid bond and he was my buddy. It was so emotionally jarring to be removed from him so suddenly and for so long despite knowing how completely necessary it was. It helped that I had two babies moving around in my belly to remind me. As I laid in the bed, I rubbed my huge, swollen, wiggling belly and cried as I held the photo.

Tonight, so many things are different from that night. Neil is older. He's no longer a baby and I see him sip straws all the time. I'm 65 pounds lighter than I was that day (thank God!) and the twins are wiggling in the house now and not in my belly. Times are tough in different ways but not as hard as they were then. I didn't know then how my babies would do once they were born, I didn't know how I was going to parent them and I wondered how different Neil would be when I came home. I'm fortunate that everything worked out and that my babies are safe and warm in their beds. Just as Neil fell asleep with me on the couch within the first few minutes of my return home from the hospital, I feel peace in my heart.