One sunset memory at a time

8 Jan

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I patted her diaper-padded bottom as we ascended up the stairs to the hall bath last night, her brother a few steps ahead of us. She playfully peered through the rungs of the banister and smiled at her reflection in the foyer mirror. I sang a song of marching up the steps to move her along. It only added to the silliness of parading into the bathroom for tub time, her feet happily marching along to the beat of the song.

I am so lucky, I was thinking to myself.

You see, each time I walk the kids up the stairs to tackle bathtime, I can’t help but think back to the night I took my son up for his bath at 18 months old, his baby sister a mere poppy seed in my belly, and how I could feel that I was losing my mind. Thoughts were racing through my head, but yet at the same time, there was a calmness about it all. He was completely oblivious to the whole thing, of course. He climbed up the stairs and I paused to look out the window above our front door, the clouds swirled up in the sky a hazy magnificent sunset display, colors so vibrant they looked as if they were burning with the secret of heaven.

We sang songs in the tub filled with bubbles and toys, and as we did this, I began to feel like the world was ending. The planes soaring over our house because of our close proximity to the airport, pushed my anxiety over the edge and I started shaking a bit, the walls were beginning to cave in on me. I quickly and methodically bathed my little man and then wrapped him up and dressed him in warm jammies, smelling his freshly washed skin and hair with deep whiffs as I read him a story, sung him a song and tucked him in his crib for the night. I remember thinking I would probably come get him and bring him into our bed once my husband and I went to sleep for the night. Given it was probably our last night on Earth, I felt it was fitting we should be together as a family in a cozy bed at least.

Hard to believe I made it out of the hospital after a week’s stay, and recovered from that episode within a few months under my doctor’s close supervision. I thank God every day that we had a healthy baby when our little girl was born 8 months later, and it never ceases to amaze me that I was given the job of being their mom every day. I’m a good mom. It’s just that I have a past that is speckled with bits of sickness and recovery, and I often am reminded of those times. For me, they are simple reminders for me to be grateful for my health and my family. These times I remember, these old dusty memories of what happened when I became manic and how I became well again, they make up my story and they inspire me to keep on writing.

One day at a time. Or, one sunset step up the stairs to the bathroom for tub time, at a time.

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5 Responses to “One sunset memory at a time”

  1. mumsmental January 15, 2013 at 11:30 am #

    Love your way with words and glad you can recall your lower moments with positivity for where you are now. P.S I’m also impressed with your description of going up for bath – so calm!!!

    • BipolarMomLife January 16, 2013 at 11:26 am #

      Thank you so much. And a huge Congratulations to you on the birth of your third child!!

  2. ukfriend46Judy January 8, 2013 at 6:05 pm #

    Your words made me cry, bless your heart, you are so brave and you are certainly a great mummy. You see, just as climbing the stairs brought back memories for you of days gone by, so your description of what was going through your mind and your anxiety, reminded me of my son when he was ill. You shook my dusty old memories. That wasn’t a bad thing. Hugs.

    • BipolarMomLife January 8, 2013 at 10:55 pm #

      Hugs, Judy. I know it’s tough to remember those old memories, but for me it makes me stronger when I take the time to let them drift by me.

      • Judy fryer January 9, 2013 at 4:01 am #

        That’s my key too…don’t dwell on things just let them drift in and out of my mind. Whenever i see a sunset I will be thankful for you and dusty old memories. Love it.

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