Close Calls.

I must tell you about our Christmas Eve day. We got to call Poison Control for the first time ever. Yep, little mister decided it would be a good idea to try out some Comet from under Grandma's sink. Now Grandma mostly uses Norwex (yay!) so there are very few chemicals around but this little can of Comet was in that downstairs bathroom and apparently, begging Eli to eat it so he could sing that annoying Comet song.

Anyway, I found him with the can, a pile of it on the rug beneath him, and it over and in his mouth. No idea how much he swallowed. I was really confused because he earlier refused to eat Grandpa's awesome oatmeal. What the heck, Eli. I immediately washed out what I could, brought him upstairs to consult with Grandma and while Greg called the Poison Control number (thank God they were working), I tried sticking my finger down his mouth (um, not pleasant). It didn't work but they said as long as he didn't eat cupfuls, we just need to monitor him. He was completely fine, praise the Lord.

There was more praising God for Eli's safety when I found him playing with TWO HUGE KNIVES. Seriously. Grandma's (door closed) pantry was not quite baby proof and her knife block was within reach of little hands. I look over from the fridge to see Eli with the two biggest knives, playing some sort of sword game in the pantry. Oh dear, did this mama run. It was almost amusing afterwards. Almost.

Later, an uncle found Eli at the bottom of the stairs laid flat out on his back, stunned and crying. He fell down some, if not all, of the many stairs. This accident made the most sense considering we don't have any inside stairs and he really just learned to go up and down recently. Uff-da.

I know every parent deals with these little close calls (some more than others). But my guess is moms that have lost children are even more keenly aware of the frailty of life. If you have walked in the shadow of death, if you have tasted the bitterness, the unfair occurrence of burying a child, you are more aware of how completely amazing it is when your child makes it through each night, each day. When Eli cries in the morning, I am sighing in relief. I assume all mothers have a bit of that in them. But one of the gifts us baby loss families have been given is a better appreciation and understanding of what we have with our living children. To feel the joy when we know they are alive, what a gift.

-Heather

Aching with your mommy today, Emily & Molly. Oh how the world is missing out on you two!