Saturday, October 10, 2009

Iodine, Bread Crumbs, and Worry! Oh My.

What was she thinking?
Throwing the routine upside like that?

That is what Sam must have been thinking tonight.

When I asked Uncle to do bath and get them to bed.
(Something about that iodine test today, mixing up with this week's overall discomfort turned my stomach into a cauldron of upset.)
I needed to lie down.
Read the New Yorker.
Breathe.
Instead of hang over a bath tub distended and snappy.

Reassured them with hugs,
sweet night night kisses and smiles.
Mommy's fine I just need to go night night first tonight.
How fun to have Uncle put you to bed?

Sam appeared fine with this at first.
The first three requests to sleep in my bed,
were handled with firm resolve.

But this one, at 11:45?
With the screams and the pleas.
With Marcel climbing over me awakened and afraid-
this was hard.

Uncle got Marcel to sleep-
as I cuddled with Sam in the blue chair
the external womb chair
the nothing can touch me here chair
the no matter what I am safe chair.

and I listened.

Like Grettle searching for crumbs to find her way,
our way home.
In the dark, afraid.

Last night in that chair he answered-
You know everything about me mommy.
When I asked him how things were going?
In a rare quiet Mommy-Sammy-Marcel-is-already-asleep moment.

Last night in that chair when asked if he could change
just one thing in the world he says;
I wouldn't be the only brown skinned boy in my preschool class-
if it were different it'd be better for me.
To which I could only agree and say thank you for telling me.
(Told his teachers,
and brought in books from home with everyone brown like me
for circle time too.)
Next year in kindergarten, it will be so different you'll see.
But mom, I don't want to wait that long.

Remember who looks just like you?
I know mom, Obama, and he is the president.
But he doesn't go to school with me.


Tonight I listened to his deep breaths
and his soft sobs
and I said that I was going to be fine
and all I meant when I asked Uncle to put him to bed
and to let me have some quiet time was that my body felt sad
and needed some time alone.

Oh.

This he understood.

The other ten ways I tried to explain it did not make sense.

and that did?

Huh.

He went right up the ladder to his bed, and to sleep.

Just like that.

Attachment? Adoption? Oedipal? Huh?

Worry? Frustration? Control? Huh?

The cat scan today with the iodine was meant to turn my insides into
a light board.
Reveal the mystery lodged back there in the right flank
that is refusing to move on, and let me be.
On Monday the doctors will decipher the clues
and tell me what's in store for that right flank and me.

Soccer game at nine thirty mom.

Time to put us all to bed-
the iodine
the bread crumbs
and the worry.

And I thought I had my bed to myself!

1 comment:

Kathleen said...

Catherine: Tonight I'm the one awake. It's midnight and I can't sleep. So of course I went to my blog. But first, checked yours. Know that I am thinking of you and hope the docs will decipher the right-flank issue. I am sending you healing energy and friendship in this great blogosphere that we share. So much to say, but don't want to clog up the comment box...it's only so big, especially for a not-so-concise blogger/adoptive mom/friend of Mama C. and the boys. Stay well, and take care of you! You did what you needed to do.