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The Chai life...2018
January 3, 2018
“The word is made up of two letters of the Hebrew alphabet – Chet (n) and Yod (‘), forming the word “Chai”, meaning “alive” or “living”
Well, welcome to 2018. I am really feeling good about this year. In Judaism, the number 18 is very lucky. And its a double even number, 20 and 18, and I LOVE even numbers. (and rocks, and Christmas, and singing in the car... the list goes on and on.)
Next week “the one who shall remain nameless” will turn 20. That means in 2018 I will have 2 daughters in their 20’s, and only one teenager. It is all going way too fast. I feel incredibly blessed to have had this life. Being the mother to my daughters is truly everything. We are all learning to navigate as they become adults. It is so hard. So so hard. Glorious to watch in awe as they conquer the world, but hard to let go. I am working on that.
Life “Chai”, is such a gift. Too often I trudge along and forget to take time to be truly grateful. Grateful for this time. My best friend Jen asked me the other day what my best year has been. My answer was I have not had it yet. A full cycle around the sun, it brings ups and downs. My downs have been crushing. But we survived. I was lucky.
20 years ago was the worst year. I was a mother, but the birth of our second baby made me a STRONG woman. I was 26, and in excellent health. Gave birth to that 8lb 4oz bundle of pure goodness. After the last “she is perfect” phone call my life took a turn that was unexpected, terrifying, and life altering.
My baby was blue and they had detected a “heart murmur”. I remember staring at the NICU on the dr.’s scrubs who was telling us our baby was in trouble, but my ears were closing and I couldn’t really hear much after “its very bad”.
Bad it was. I signed myself out of the hospital, folly bag still attached, and Skee and I followed the ambulance, in the dark rain, to a higher level Children’s hospital. She was too sick to be cared for where I had given birth.
Once we had her stable at the children’s hospital they sent us home so I could get some sleep. I had been in labor for almost 2 days and I don’t even know how I was standing. We got home and “this one” was waiting. She was just shy of 3. “Where is the sister”? she asked. I crumbled. Skee took her to her bed and told her that the baby was sick. The next thing I heard was praying, both of them, on their knees.
Skee came to bed and I was shaking so violently he had to lay on top of me and held me with all his strength. We sobbed. I passed out from total and complete exhaustion. We woke a few hours later and my mom walked me to the bathroom to shower. She held the folly bag while I rinsed off. I slid down the side of the shower and screamed and cried. “What if I love this baby and she dies”? I cried to my
mom. “What if you don’t and she lives” was her answer. Who was I kidding? I was madly in love with this little soul the second I found out I was pregnant. My mom told me I had 5 full minutes to carry on like a lunatic, and then, I had to get off that shower floor and be the mother that my baby girl deserved. I