My Little Stranger

There is a natural change in a parenting relationship with your children. It's slow and gradual and stretched out over time and maturation of your child. Not a separation really, not that you love your child any less or care for them less intensely, you would still throw yourself in front of a train to protect them... you would still do anything to take away their pain and suffering, you still want the best thing for them always. It's not less love on any level, it's just a normal maturation of that relationship with that child. It's how it is meant to be I think. I love all my children intensely and with a passion that burns inside of me. However it's not the same relationship with all of them. You cannot, and should not, have the same relationship with your one-year-old that you have with your seven-year-old and not that same with him that you should have with your fifteen-year-old. That's just how it works. Relationships change over time as is the natural course of events. I love the relationships I have with my three oldest kids. We have changed and rolled with the times and the eras and find ourselves on sure footing, I feel, as they grow and mature. Not so with Biggle... and it rips my heart.

This morning, after having slept in our room since his surgery on Thursday, Biggle came into our room at 5:15am sobbing and miserable and in terrible pain. He was hurting... BADLY and needed some pain medication and a lot of comforting. I told him to climb into bed with me while Daddy got him some pain meds. I held him and stroked his jet black hair, and smoothed his sweet little cheeks and whispered to him that it was going to be okay and we were going to take care of him and all would be well again. I relished the opportunity to hold him in my arms and give him comfort, because typically he's such an independent little guy. Daddy finally showed up with the medication and Biggle settled back into my arms, still quietly crying while I stroked him and comforted him until he nodded off to sleep. I did good. I did the good Mami thing to do. I love that little boy so much. Still as I lied there with him in my arms as he slept those thoughts that I don't KNOW this child flitted through my brain again and poked at me like a thorn in my side. It hurts that I don't KNOW this child like I should.

You see the natural maturation and change of our relationship was ripped asunder.... when Boo arrived. I had always been extraordinarily close with Biggle. He was my "Biggle Boy" and he was a Mami's boy in the biggest way. We were just tight... super tight... as you should be and is right with a 3 y/o little boy. Biggle was my little side kick... in much the same way that Boo is now... only different. I'm much more Mami Lion with Boo than I was with the others because he needs that. It's not that I love Boo more, he just needs me on a completely different level. So Biggle was my little side-kick, and totally typical which has it's own spin. We did everything together and I held him all the time. I read books to him and sat with him and watched Sesame Street with him and played games and did Play-Doh and all that stuff with him. We were tight.

Then Boo came into the picture and everything around us exploded. Everything went haywire and nuts and life was crazy and there were way more important things to focus on than Sesame Street or Play-Doh or reading books. There were monitors to watch and desats to be watched for and Ben to be comforted because he cried (screamed!) ALL the time. He needed to be fed and taken care of and taken to his ten million Dr. appointments every week. He needed to be taken to the hospital and go for testing and see this specialist and that specialist and have PT and OT. He NEEDED our undivided attention is what he needed... and it wasn't optional, it was necessary. He was in pain ALL the time and he needed the comfort of a warm LOVING body there to make him feel like it was all going to be okay. He couldn't see and he needed to feel skin and hair close to him to know that he was safe and someone was there for him. He needed to get PT/OT several times a week. He needed to be tested and poked and prodded. He just did. There was no arguing with it. There was no other option. It wasn't as if we could just say no and put that all on hold so that we could give all of the other children such much needed and deserved time and attention. It just wasn't possible. So Biggle got lost in the shuffle somehow. He was with us at the hospitals and Dr.'s appointments and testing. He was with us for the PT/OT. He was with us as we drove across the state every week to go to the Children's hospital. He was always THERE... but the truth is that I wasn't often "present" with him. I was present with Boo because I had to be.

So looking back now our Biggle is seven-years-old and I find that I can barely remember the years when he was four and five-years-old. I have virtually no memory of him at those ages. I missed those years completely. I was so busy putting out fires and doing what HAD to be done that Biggle went from Mami's little sidekick to unseen virtually over night. Logically I know I did what had to be done. I get that. Emotionally that hurts like hell. I mourn those years I missed. I'll never get them back. I can't go back and do them over again. I can't go back and REMEMBER those days. I can't go back and take some time to find that closeness with Biggle that we once shared. It's just gone. Forever. So in quiet times like this morning I find myself relishing in holding him and remember how close we were and how special my bond with him was when he was just a little tiny guy and at the same time I fight back the loud gasping sobs that rip my heart for having lost that somehow and for having this little boy stranger in my arms. He still adores me and needs me. I saw that more in the past few days since the surgery than ever before. I could always tell when he was hurting more because he would find his way over to me and curl up in a ball against me with my arm protectively around him. He still seeks me out when he's in pain and miserable and he still feels that Mami comfort that only I can give him. Our bond isn't gone... I think it just matured before it's time. He pulled away... well, no... as much as it pains me to say this he was pushed away out of necessity... well before that relationship was ready to mature to that level for either of us. It wasn't natural and organic and progressed at a slow pace. It was unnatural and abrupt and traumatic.

I love that boy. Oh how I love that boy. I hate that at times I have that thought race through my mind of "who is this little stranger in my home?" I. Hate. It. He's my Biggle boy. He's so special and so amazing and I fear that I have scarred him terribly. I fear that he is too often overlooked and grouped in with "the big kids" even though he is far from that. I have so many fears and concerns and it tears at my heart and my soul. There are no do-overs in life and I'm sorry for that my darling Biggle. I really am.