Campbell Isaiah's many traits that make him a genuine conglomeration of The Lovely Steph Leann and myself include his looks... many people say he resembles me when I'm holding him, only to turn around and resemble Mommy when she's holding him... his digestion, which probably takes after me, as I'm all kinds of regular... and his allergic tendencies. As in, he is congested. A lot. Just like The Lovely Steph Leann.
Perhaps its a trait on her side of the family, as most of them are snorers, and I suspect that as he gets old, Campbell will be as well.
Sometimes, the poor kid wakes up scared and crying because he can't breath, due to his congestion, and its a little heartbreaking. We use Young Living Essential Oils with him so that does help him out some... but other times, like last night, The Lovely Steph Leann utters six horrible words... "We need to suck him out."
We do this sparingly for Campbell because he hates it. Okay, maybe "hate" is too light a word. God does not merely hate sin. Jennifer Aniston does not merely hate Angelina Jolie. An Alabama fan does not merely hate Tennessee... no, Campbell deplores it. Campbell despises this process. What's worse, he's terrified of it... and that's the heartbreaking part.
I sat downstairs, two laptops open, working on some Disney quotes last night for some clients, the time ticking away, probably closer to 11p, when I heard Campbell wake up. I didn't move because I knew The Lovely Steph Leann was up there, in the bathroom, getting ready for bed... he cried some, and then was silent, so I knew she had picked him, or had soothed him back to sleep or whatever...
Then, I heard my name being called, with a request that I make an appearance post haste... I stopped what I was doing and jogged up the steps, and as I entered the bedroom, that's when she informed me of what had to be done. We needed to "Suck him out".
I sighed. I hated this process, because I knew of what it did to him. Well, I'll rephrase that, because it did nothing but help him, actually, but it scared him so, so badly... but, she was right. In his shallow breathing as he lay on Mommy, resting his head on her shoulder, tired, sleepy, but unable to stay asleep, I could hear the sounds of nasal obstruction. That slight, off-key whistle you make when something, usually snotty, is partial blocking your nasal cavity.
I grabbed the apparatus from the bottom drawer in our bathroom, grabbed a clean rag and went to them.
|Does anyone else find this picture terrifying? She's creepy.|
I think it's at this point when Campbell realized the unpleasantness that is about to occur, because usually he starts crying now. He was actually already crying, but then the crying becomes screaming.
And in the instance the tip of that plastic tube goes into his nose, the screams go from "I'm uncomfortable, I don't feel good, please hold me Mommy" to sheer "WHAT THE.... HOLY CRAP... WHAT ARE YOU DOING... WHAT ARE YOU PUTTING IN MY N..."
...only he can't finish it, as there's a tube in his nose. As I crouch next to him, my hands lay across his arms, pinning his hands and arms to the mattress, while my own elbow and upper arm lay on his feet and legs, to keep the kicking at a minimum. The Lovely Steph Leann begins to suck on this tube, making an inhalation sound broken up with noises of moisture in the tube, like when a vacuum sucks up paper or rocks, that random ffft-fff-tfff sound.
And Campbell begins to shriek. Ear piercing, blood curdling shrieks of terror, of horror, of panic, so unbelievably scared out of his 2 year old mind. He's not in much pain, as it really doesn't hurt at all... but he's terrified, first because I'm holding him down--and he HAAAATES being pinned--but also because... well, there's a piece of plastic jammed up his nose. Who really likes that?
For me, its almost unbearable. The screams are so bad that they even go silent here and there, because they are so powerful, so full of insecurity and betrayal...
...MOMMY!? DADDY?! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!?!?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?!?! I TRUSTED YOU!!!!!
...that it nearly breaks my heart. In a minute or less, it's over... I grab the nosefrieda and take it out of sight to wash it, while The Lovely Steph Leann picks him up and cradles him immediately. This is important for her and Campbell, so he never sees her as only the "bad guy with the thing".
And as I said my goodnight and left them to go back downstairs, giving Mommy and Baby time to bond, giving Campbell a few minutes to completely forget what just happened because now all he knows is love and comfort and security in the arms of his beautiful mother... it hit me.
God does this.
He does it because He has to.
God makes corrections in our lives, allows us to go through pain and suffering because that's how we get better. God will pin us down, sucking the bad out of our lives, so that when its over, we may breathe deeper of the Holy Spirit.
God sticks things, people, circumstances, life straight into our proverbial noses and then proceeds to remove all that doesn't need to be there. And its uncomfortable. We do our own crying, our own shrieking, our own hurt...
But more than that, God doesn't enjoy it... not... at... all...
I am by no means comparing myself to Him in anyway, but I can imagine His heart breaking over us, watching us squirm and fight and try to get away, watching our own tears fall as we are rendered immobile by Him in order that He can "suck us out". And much like it kills me to watch my own son in such discomfort, in such a state of fright and terror, even though I know that the end result will be health and so much more comfort--an end result that Campbell cannot see nor does not recognize as possible...
...I know it must be like a knife for God to watch His own children be so uncomfortable, be so scared of an end result that we cannot know or comprehend or predict, even though He knows it will all be fine, and we will be stronger, deeper in faith and just a little, or a lot, closer to Him.
I dwelled on this for several minutes last night, considering times in my own life when I was scared and saw no end to the pain and even had my own "WHAT THE HECK, GOD?! I TRUSTED YOU!! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME, WHY ARE YOU LETTING ME GO THROUGH THIS??!!" moments... and now, I can look back and say, "Oh... that's why. And I came out so much better, stronger, breathing so much deeper." And before I forgot, I added, "Thank you, God."
Not sure if Campbell will thank us anytime soon. But I know he loves us anyway. And I know He loves us anyway too.
(16,480 words written in January, #500Words... 3,520 words to go for #20KWordsinJanuary)