I’ve blogged about this before, the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of being lost, the feeling of running down a darkened hallway without a door, no way out.
I’ve conquered a lot of things in my life, but I don’t know if I”ll ever be able to conquer motherhood and maybe I’m not suppose to. Maybe we’re not suppose to be a pro at motherhood, because it is constantly changing. No way is one childhood instance the same as another. No two children are the same and no two mothers are the same in how they handle adversity.
Davey has croup which is nothing more than an amped version of a cough, at least at this point that’s what it is. He doesn’t have a whole lot going on with it, but to hear such a profound sound like that of a barking seal coming from my baby is a bit overwhelming for me and leads to that feeling of helplessness.
For the most part, he’s a trooper about it. I try my best to keep him from crying since that seems to make breathing a lot harder on him. We go through breathing treatments of sitting in a room of steam, breathing it in, and then immediately to the cold air of a freezer. He’s 20 weeks old, what else can be done?
And I guess what hurts most is that I can remember as a child wanting nothing more than my mother’s arms when I felt sick. Being held by her always made me feel better, but my son doesn’t seem to be the same way. My arms aren’t quite so comforting and boy do I feel like a craphead of a mother. What does that say about me that I can’t seem to comfort my own child?