Grace

We had one of those days yesterday. Everything started out fine and then by the afternoon, I was feeling like I had the flu. I didn't pay much attention to the fact that one of my breasts had started to hurt the night before, but I quickly realized that my fever and chills must be related to that somehow. Then, Natalie launches into a fussy, crying period that didn't end until late last night. Scotty was gone for the afternoon, so I was trying to rest, but not able to keep Natalie asleep for more than 20 mins at a time. I felt terrible and had a few of those moments where I though "I can't handle this!" At that point, you feel like all the confidence you were gaining as a new mom disappears and you wonder if things are ever going to be better, and how are you going to get through- lots of overly dramatic feelings like that. Scotty came home and gave me a hand and I started calling medical friends to inquire about what might be going on in my body. Mastitis was the general consensus and I was encouraged to seek the help of a doctor. I called my gynecologist, who was inconveniently out of town. A pediatrician answered the phone and gave me a few tips on how to help things. He said if it seemed to get worse, I should call a certain doctor, which I assumed at the time was him. Then my friend gave me the number of her gynecologist, who was also out of town- must be a convention going on. He gave me the number of the same doctor to call as his stand in. I started worrying that if I didn't get on antibiotics, something drastic could happen. I called my pediatrician and she said she wouldn't be able to prescribe anything for me- I should talk directly to my gynecologist. Arg!! So, I called back the original pediatrician who was answering my gynecologist's phone (are you confused yet?) and asked if I could come in- it was now about 6pm, getting dark, and starting to rain. He said "yes" and when we got to the building, we asked the secretaries where the office of this doctor was, and they acted clueless and said there was no one by that name. We asked if there was a pediatrician in the building and they said "no". So we went downstairs, dumbfounded, because we were in the exact spot where the doctor had told me he could be found. I called him again and he confirmed the location. The problem was, I couldn't understand him when he said his last name because my cell phone kept cutting out. I caught the first name and we found him on the sign, asked the secretaries again (who seemed to be sharing a little secret between themselves on our account) and they quickly directed us to the right office (why didn't they mention before that there is a pediatrician in this building??). We sat down a bit confused after explaining to the even more confused personal secretary for this doctor why we were there and I started putting the puzzle pieces together. This doctor had told me to call a different doctor if things got worse, which is who I was asking for, and I thought he was talking about himself. So, now I realize that we've shown up on his doorstep and maybe he can't help us at all. But, here we are, having come through rain and I'm starting to feel lousy again and we're just waiting and waiting. I can feel the tears coming on, wondering if we're going to have to go find this other doctor instead, Natalie is starting to cry in her car seat, and I just wanted to crawl into bed and make it all go away. Finally we are seen and the doctor is nice and gentle and reassuring and tells me there's no infection, just a blocked duct. He gives me some instructions and we get to go home. Scotty takes Natalie, who seems to be eating much more frequently (growth spurt?) and she begins to scream, without ceasing, for what seemed like an eternity. We finally give her gas drops, I nurse her to calm her down, and she finally falls asleep. Her night went better and we got some rest. All this to say, I was super stressed and just wanted my baby to stop crying and go to sleep. I felt totally out of control, sad, helpless, tired, on the edge of breaking. But, God never lets the stress/tension get so bad that we spontaneously combust. She stopped crying, we all fell asleep, and the routine continued mostly as normal. I woke up feeling better, she's serenely sleeping in her crib right now with that angelic little face, and God's grace prevails- His mercies are new every morning. Suddenly, all those thoughts from last night seem far away and we've moved past the crisis. My body still has some healing to do and it's still too early to say how she'll be feeling today- but there is peace again. If only in those moments of craziness, we could remember that we are not alone and that we will get through by the grace of God. If only I could trust more in Him and not let myself get so upset. I am thankful for God's grace in calming my baby, in taking away my fever, in giving us a peaceful night, in providing an amazing husband who's willing to watch the screaming baby while I try to rest, in bringing on a new day full of possibilities. How would I survive as a mom without this grace?