'Twas the night before Christmas...

I thought I'd write a little post tonight by my fireplace, as I'm feeling snuggly and content, relaxing in the post Christmas glow...ahh. YEAH RIGHT.

 Truth be told, this year's Christmas was one hot mess.                      My husband (a chef) often works very late hours, and the 24th of December was no exception. As the baby drifted off finally, I crept into the living room of our tiny apartment to wrap up his gifts in a  hurry. We had only gotten Sawyer a couple of things (By the way, Melissa and Doug, if you're reading this, I truly hope the new wing of your house has room for a bowling alley--but that's another blog post) but we had only gotten a few things for our boy because we had gotten him the HOLY GRAIL of toys-- A beautiful blue Chevy pick up truck, This thing came with working headlights, an MP3 jack (what 2 year old needs that?!?) working doors and an awesome horn. Steveo was going to build the car when he got home so we could roll it out when Sawyer was finished opening his gifts in the morning. We were beyond excited-- this truck was something both of us had always wanted as kids, a real live car you could drive! None of our parents ever obliged, however. This was going to be one of those awesome moments you get to choose, to veer in an entirely different direction than your parents did, and we both couldn't wait to see the look on his cute little face.

 But I digress-- Steveo came through the door about 11:30pm on the Eve. I looked up, excited to get the car building started, and was immediately met with a grimacing face and a look of terror in my husbands eyes. He fell against the wall for support. I jumped up and helped him barely make it to the bathroom before the vomiting started. His whole body began to tense up in muscle cramps and he would cry out in pain every few moments. I was scared shitless-- I had never seen him like this at all. Steveo wasn't sure what the hell was happening-- at one point he thought he was having a heart attack. (Of course he didn't say this to me at the time.) I called the advice nurse and continued to watch as he was sick over and over again in the bathroom. Of course, with all the commotion, little Sawyer woke up and came into the living room. Seeing his brightly wrapped presents under the tree, he quietly opened them all and then, because he couldn't contain his excitement, ran to the bathroom to see what we were all fussing about, holding a fire engine toy above his head and shouting, "Look what I got!!!" At that moment, I nearly laughed. Two-year-olds are awesome stress relievers. We were advised to go to the ER right away, and so bundled the little present ninja up and dropped him off at my mom's on our way.

Steveo ended up getting admitted and was in the hospital for 3 days. His white blood cell count was so high it indicated he was battling a massive infection, but no one could figure out what it was. Being a chef, it was assumed e coli, but that came back negative. So did C-diff, Shigella, Giardia, and  a host of other guesses and tests. It was morphine and cipro and norco and dilodin and saline. My husband was pale and lethargic and weak. And the hardest part for me was that I couldn't stay at the hospital with him. I had to go home and take care of our son. I felt so torn.

  In those 3 days, I experienced what it is truly like to be without a partner. It sucked. Sure, I might complain sometimes or feel like I carry the brunt of the parenting load, but in his absence I saw all of the things that I don't do, things that I cant do. I don't know how to fix Sawyer's toys when they break, or how to check my brake fluid, and I don't feel safe sleeping in our place alone at night, and I couldn't even shower until I was sure that Sawyer was fast asleep. I don't know how to properly play trucks or do most boy things. My son asked where daddy was all the time, and then when we would be around other family members he would tell them "Daddy is very so sick." It broke my heart. I felt lonely-- there was no one to talk to, or joke with, or hug, or tag in when I was exhausted. The house felt empty, the Christmas tree looked dim, and I could barely tolerate being there. I stayed at my parents house for much of those 3 days, just to be around people and noise and everyday activities. I was so worried about Steveo, so confused, suddenly thrown into having to think about what I would truly do if he was in this condition for a long time, or worse. My husband is a big man, but his spirit is even bigger, and his essence fills our little house to the brim. I needed him to come home.

Thank goodness that my requests were heard! He came home to some very happy folks! While the doctors still aren't exactly sure what the problem is, Steveo seemed to respond to antibiotics and his white blood cell count returned to a more normal range, so things are looking up.  I saw my husband in a whole new light-- he isn't just my partner, my child's father, my love-- he is half of my spirit. When he isn't here, none of us are, and for his health and his return and his energy coming back home, I am forever grateful.

Christmases are rarely perfect-- but they are also rarely this eventful! And I feel terrible for admitting this, but it really took losing my routine, my stability, my other half for those three days to feel actually thankful for all of our blessings, for the first time in a long time. Cherish the people around you, be grateful for the miracle that is life and love and family, and leave all the other bullshit at the door. In the scheme of things, three days is nothing. I know that many people must go through life daily without the help or support of partners and family, and I am so lucky that I still had support in this time. But empathy isn't measured, it isn't a contest. What feels like a struggle to anyone is still a struggle, its still truth, and its all relative.

Christmas 2014 was a comment to the year that we've had. It was chaotic and tense and not ideal in any way, but it worked out. And we have what we brought into it-- we have hope, we have our family, we have our love. Is it sappy? Is this cliche? definitely. And I'm totally fine with that. Go hug your family.

XOXO