I recently declared that I am Not a Preemie Mom. As of today, I have got to take that back.
In church this morning, the pastor introduced the children’s sermon with “I’m going to talk to you today about something you are all good at.” She then talked about what it could be, and said “breathing. You are all good at breathing.”
The sermon was something about encouraging adults to take a breath during this busy holiday season. About helping adults remember to breathe. Remember to breathe. And I was back in last May.
May was a time in my life when neither of my children were good at breathing. Picasso was recovering from surgery–that was supposed to cure his sleep apnea. And then Cassatt (baby you’re not supposed to be here until July!) was having apnea of prematurity–his little brain wasn’t developed enough to breathe consistently.
Reminding parents to breathe. After all those times I looked at Cassatt and just said “breathe.”
Reminding parents to breathe. And this year when Picasso was learning to use a c-pap machine to help him breathe.
You are all good at breathing, she said. And now they are. We are extremely lucky not to have asthma or continuing prematurity issues. I was not crying for any current fear or worry, but I didn’t realize how much of that I still had inside me. As the mother of a healthy child, I still have preemie-mom-fear to let go of.
Pastor forgot — not all children are good at breathing. To be good at breathing is such a gift.
Remember to breathe.