Our little girl was sick all day yesterday. It started after a breakfast of french toast. She complained about her stomach aching and 10 minutes after giving her a small dose of Pepto, she ran to the garbage can in the kitchen to throw up. I went to her and held her hair back, while she looked up at me with her beautiful, beautiful blue eyes, teary and large. It broke my heart.
She got sick two more time, once not making it wholly into the small garbage can I set next to the couch for her. She took a 2 hour nap and woke up hungry, so we fed her. A few hours later, in her pj's watching a movie in one of the guest rooms, she started throwing up, again looking at me with those imploring eyes, wanting her momma to make it better.
I slept with her in the guest room that night. Both her and my bed are way tall and to get to a garbage can from their heights is quite impossible for her. The bed in guest room # 2 is actually just the top mattress on the floor; easy reach to the can.
I lay with her and tried to sleep. I kept seeing those big eyes. Then, another image flashed in my mind. The same big, teary eyes, black this time, looking up at me.
Twelve years ago, my ex and I were having a fight in the kitchen of our rental duplex. My then 3-year-old son walks into the kitchen to ask something. His father SCREAMS at the top of his lungs for my son to GET OUT, and he opens the front door, shoves him out and slams it. I am in shock. I run to the door as I scream "What is WRONG with you?!?! He's THREE!"
I open the front door to find my baby boy trying to breathe, staring at the closed door. He's hiccuping and unable to cry from the shock. His big black eyes look up at me and his body shakes. I scoop him up and hug him so tight. I soothe his back and say "It's OK, mommy's here, mommy's here," and he starts to sob.
(Wow, I'm crying as I type.)
I left that place with my son a few months later.
They are so innocent, children. They look to us, with those big (black, blue) eyes, to be their guardian angels. Nothing can go wrong when mom and dad are around.
Her big blue imploring eyes reminded me of his big black imploring eyes, and I silently cried as I rubbed her back, praying for healing in her body and in my memory.
2 comments:
Oh, Kaaren, you have such a way with words. I could just see my own Jacob's eyes when he was small as I read your post.
Oh...I'm tearing up just reading your words. There is a special place in hell for those who hurt children, in my view. I'm so glad you got out of there and found a safe place.
I absolutely hate it when my babies are sick. Even though they are now in their teens (!!) they still want to sleep close to me in the guest room when they are sick. There is a part of me that never wants them to know that I cannot make everything better for them.
Thanks for sharing a part of yourself :-)
Post a Comment