Slice of Life

I wrote this last night...

It's my oldest son, Jackson's birthday today and I sit alone in a quiet, empty house. My husband took our boys on a Cub Scout camp out for the weekend. My boys were so excited to go that I didn't think that much about not being there to spend his birthday with him. Mainly, because we are having a party for him in a few weeks. At this moment, I do feel a tinge of guilt for not going on the camp out. But honestly, in the next moment, I am happy to have a little alone time to recharge from this hectic schedule I've had since school started. I've been having trouble sleeping for a few weeks now. I think I've averaged 4 hours a night this week alone and I'm exhausted. 
I plopped down on the couch to watch some TV and turned to Netflix to find something to watch. I decided to watch the old TV show, Lost. I'd never seen it. I watched part 2 of the pilot, one of the characters is an 8 month pregnant girl that hadn't felt her baby move since the plane crash two days prior. She was distressed that something was wrong. She accepted some food from the Korean man who'd collected sea urchins and offered it to the group. She took a reluctant bite of his offering. She jumped up; it appeared that she was getting sick over what she just ate. Instead, she screamed with excitement and grabbed the man's hand and forced him to feel her belly. "I can feel him! I can feel him, there's his foot!" she cried out in utter elation like she'd been reacquainted with a long lost friend...no, it was more than that...a long lost love. I started to cry along with her because it reminded me of when I experienced the same thing with my Jackson when I was about 6 1/2 months pregnant.
It was the Fourth of July and we had a large family get together. I had been on my feet all day cooking, cleaning, talking, having fun and doing all the things you do for parties. I love to entertain. Being July, it was warm that day too, but I enjoyed myself and hadn't really noticed that Jackson who normally moved a lot, hadn't moved. As the day wore on, I realized it even more that he still hadn't moved all day. I loved feeling him remind me of his presence each day and night so I felt the pain of his absence that day. While the family and my husband were lighting off fireworks, I went inside to lay down on the couch and prop my feet up. I was exhausted, but I wanted to lay down to see if I could coax Jackson into moving a little for me, once I was still and stretched out. My husband came in to check on me and I began to cry and told him that I hadn't felt Jackson all day. I was worried. After all the activity and company retreated, I fell fast asleep on the couch. I woke up a few hours later to active movement from Jackson. He was stretching and twisting and I was elated and felt tremendous joy and love for the little boy growing inside me, just like the pregnant girl in Lost.  

As a mother, the love you feel for your kids rivals some of the greatest love stories. One of my good friends, Becky, once told me after she had her first son, "I am so totally and completely in love with my son." At the time, I had no children of my own and didn't really understand how she felt, but as soon as I had my sons, I finally understood and felt as Becky did. And with that thought, I sit in my quiet house, enjoying a little moment of solitude but missing my love, my first born son on his 8th birthday.