Breast Feeding & Stunt Doubles

I spend a lot of time in the tub these days.  It's usually at the end of the day when all the kiddos are in bed and Coach has crashed in G's bed because these days he refuses to go to sleep by himself.  *Please note that he shares a bedroom.  Kids are funny.

While in the tub this evening I was reminded of the day directly following the birth of P.  The night had been rough.  P chose to grace us with his presence after 15 hours of labor and arrived at 11:40 that evening.  I was a hot mess because I had no idea what to expect, even though I thought I had read everything.  My parts hurt, my brain hurt,  my life hurt at that point.  P was fighting me with the breast feeding and I was rapidly reaching melt down stage.

My parents had come to visit that morning and were followed into the room by more family.  On any normal day I would have been fine with it all.  Sleep deprived and body hurting I was not in a good place.  My Dad stood there for a moment, looked into my eyes, shifted his gaze to P and then quietly asked my Mom if she could help me.  He then helped convince everyone else to find something better to do for the time being.  Soon it was just my Mother, P and me.  She quickly assessed the nursing issues and gave me wisdom that soothed my soul.

It's nice to be known like that.  Up until that point I knew that my Dad loved me, but it was in that moment that I really felt it.  I knew I was his daughter, and without words he felt what I needed in order to be brought back to whole and then made it happen.  Parents are remarkable that way.

Parents know their kiddos inside and out and would do anything for them. If your life handed you a load of crap and expected you to call them family, I'm truly sorry.  Trust me when I say that 99.9% of parents would throw themselves into oncoming traffic if they thought it would keep their child from harm.  My parents are like that.  I hope that yours are too.  I'm lucky in another regard, because I think my in-laws would also do that for me.

This is where it gets tricky.  In the past few months, I have gained a deeper respect for the parents of cancer patients.  There has to be a place in their heart where they hurt so deeply from, because for all that they are, and all that they desire to do- they cannot take this from their children; no matter how old their children are.  There is no demon to wrestle, no physicality to this brutal disease that appears in every form.  There is only the epic fight that their loved one must face; with hands held, tears cried, and prayers whispered in the dark of night.  Sometimes being a cancer patient is a lonely place, because the struggle can feel so solitary if you allow yourself to get trapped in that mindset.  Thank goodness for families that love us- crazy trials and all.

This is where a stunt double would be awesome!  No, I'm not digressing.  When a fight scene is staged, no one expects the lead actor to take the hit.  Very rarely do you ever find the leading lady actually having to grapple the hideous monster, or careen down the street at breakneck speeds toward the enemy.  The director screams "CUT!" the stunt double gets into the place, and WHAMO, the fight continues with no blows taken by the leading man/lady.  Can you imagine the mental fortitude?  I know they're not really taking hits, but sometimes things go a bit whack-a-doo and they end up with a great story (best case scenario). Wouldn't it be grand if life worked that way?

(Ha ha ha.  This is for you Twilighters)

In my head if I catch myself thinking too much about what lies in store, I imagine taking a breather for a bit.  I yell "CUT!" and a Kami Doppleganger gets into place.  I let the stunt double stand in until I feel up to it and then "CUT!" is yelled again and I jump back into scene when it calls for cupcake eating and laughter.

I think there's a HUGE reason why this type of life event doesn't work that way; because we have families.  I'm pretty sure I know the individuals that would volunteer to be my stunt doubles in life. They would gladly take the hit for me, and not think twice.  I'd like to think I would do the same for them. The thought of that leaves me breathless and grateful for a body and a mind that can fight this without the stunt double because I love those that would do that for me way too much.

Before this gets waaaaaaay over the top philosophical, I wanted to send a "YOU CAN DO IT!" to Tristan, Ashley & Jeff.  While the stunt double button is not an option, please know that I'm in the background yelling "CUT!" on your worst days and wishing that I could be your stunt double- as I know all your families are doing as well.  I hear about each of you, and I am given strength to continue on towards treatment and ultimately a better day.  Keep your chins up, your faith strong, and lets punch some cancer in the throat, so that our movie can continue towards the "Happily Ever After...." that we're all hoping for.


(Scene ends with a huge pyrotechnic explosion through which each survivor comes walking out decked in the toughest looking, black leather, beat up outfit you can imagine.  Arms are ripped up, knuckles are hammered, a black eye is suggested on the right one, left cheek bone is scratched, but each hero is wearing a BOOYAH grin, as the screen transitions to white with some serious rock music playing.)