It’s been four nights since we slept through.
Four nights of fevers so high they scared me.
Four nights of rocking and rocking and rocking her till I was sweaty with her sweat.
There is a rocking chair and Motrin and the ER and tests and then this room again. And still we rock and still she sweats and still we rock. Four days in mama years is a lifetime. I get scared and small and the universe feels like these four walls even though I know this won’t last for ever.
She is getting better.
I come back to this computer for snatches while she sleeps to try to rub my words over all these thoughts I have in the dark -like kids rub crayons over leaves or coins to make those paper etchings.
I etch words over memories. Over emotions.
I write and scratch at all the complicated inside-outness of my own head. The words, no the writing the words down, they help make sense. I draw my own road map in reverse. It happens and then I write it.
Looking back I can see the direction where we’ve come from and it feels less scary.
Sometimes other people can find themselves in the backwards map I write too. In the one you write as well.
We color in a road map for the lost and we find ourselves in the process. All these words leading me home.
She’s crying again. I will walk into the dark and she will have hands raised wide open above her head. And I will bend down and pick her up and hold her skin to skin and we will rock the fever away.
And I will have written the memory. And thereby lived it twice.
What it’s like to mother. To feel her hand pressed against my collar bone, her foot curled up under her leg pressing against my belly. How her curls smell like so much wet puppy. Her voice hoarse every time she bleats another, “mama.” She wears my DNA and to comfort her is to comfort myself.
My blue eyes looking back up at me from her flush face.
And from these words.
::
Heartbreaking and beautiful. Sending thoughts for healing to you all!
Oh, Lisa-Jo. This is the stuff. Praying quick recovery & counting your words here as a gift.
I get it. Totally get it. Hoping for health and rest in your home soon. Hang in there, you’re doing a great job!
Ah Angel! We’ve just been through 5 days of fever here too. I think it’s a Westville bug because there were a couple of kids from the Bunny’s school that got it, and one of my collegues grandkids had it too, and she’s also a Westville mom. Started with a sore tummy and then this raging fever. Praise God for Ponstan and Lotem! She started getting better on Friday/ Saturday, and Saturday was the first night she didn’t need fever meds.
My heart is with you.
Praying for you both!
Aww, I hope she will feel better again soon!
… sweet baby girl … sweet lovin’ mama …
‘to comfort her is to comfort myself…’ I know this so well. The fragrance of them.
Thinking of you and praying for sweet, cool sleep for you both.
x
oh, a fever that lasts is so hard …pray that she heals quickly and you all get some much needed rest…you still manage to write beautifully, Lisa-Jo :)
Praying healing over your baby girl and strength and comfort for you and your family in Jesus Name!
Much love….
Lisa Shaw
Love your title – How to Write Yourself Out of the Dark. I journal most every day, but can’t seem to write myself out of the dark yet. In God’s time. Hope she’s feeling much better!
This was such a timely blessing to me. My daughter just had a baby girl five days ago. Our experience has too been dark at times, difficult, emotional, and a huge faith test, but God is so faithful and today is a good day! Praise God!
So rich with encouragement to be real in our own stories! Thank you for writing out the hard so poetically that it touches the heart.
Praying for you and your little one!
SO sorry, Lisa-Jo. Nothing worse than a very sick little one. Prayers for healing and rest and recovery. But I gotta say – this has triggered a small jewel of an essay here. Oh, yeah.
I am there with you this week. Fever that scares me, ER in the middle of the night, the endless coughing, the sweaty curls. Thanks for the inspiration to write about it in more words.
For a long time my writing was formed under the artificial light of the hospital ward. Nothing prepares you for fear like that. Love you all and prayers send like always xx
I pray God’s healing hand will be with her and that the fever will be rocked away and for protection for you–that you won’t catch it as you spend long hours rocking her. After 4 days, you must be exhausted!
You know, sometimes, when the boys are sick, I admit -full of guilt- that I enjoy all of that needing-me-so-tangibly all of that usefulness I can provide, all of those long, drawn out rocks and “shhhhhh’s” that feel so “Really Useful” like a Thomas train. Their dependence is never more apparent and so yeah, sometimes….I dig the kiddos being sick. #sigh #twistedMama
Yet, I feel for you and know how exhausting it can be as well…hope you are able to hang in there!
Lovely words . . . or putting down of words. I love the picture of her holding her hands up above her head in anticipation of you . . . if only we all lived like that with the Father. God bless you – praying for speedy recovery!
Sorry your baby is sick. Hope she feels well real soon.
My daughter has strep. Must be the sick season.
Beautiful writing.
~FringeGirl
Aw sorry your babe isn’t feeling well. . . beautifully written post ♥
Absolutely love this post. Thank you.
Lisa Jo,
I am praying health and healing for your baby girl. You tugged at my heart today. When my husband was in the hospital for seven days and I didn’t know which way was up, I wrote myself out of the scary places as he slept. I hadn’t put words to it until just now. And now I’m off to write about it.
Thank you. Abundant blessings, peace, and hugs to you.
Oh girls, you are so lovely. Thanks for the group hug. Zoe is sleeping tonight – for the first time in what feels like FOREVER. This mama is so powerfully grateful. So much thanks for the kind words.
LJ
You put into words beautifully how it feels on those dark nights, I remember them well even though it’s been awhile for us. I hope she feels better soon and that you are able to get some sleep.
Lisa-Jo, this is so heart-breakingly, stunningly true. Thank you for these words straight from the midst of pain and fear and places touched by Him. Praying for your sweet bunny and you, Mama, and the rest of your family, too.