Sunday Starbucks Siesta

"A siesta (Spanish pronunciation: [ˈsjesta]) is a short nap taken in the early afternoon, often after the midday meal. Such a period of sleep is a common tradition in some countries, particularly those where the weather is warm." (Thank you, wikipedia)

While I don't do "siesta" like my boys do, I definitely am down with some Sunday Starbucks. In fact, it has been a Sunday tradition since my senior year in college. I wish I could say today was a typical Sunday in all regards, but not really. Sadly, my Sundays have not consisted of Christ the King worship and fellowship as of late, but I am rolling with it. This morning was supposed to be my first Sunday back at church since the birthday adventure/high school retreat/half marathon trifecta, but we had another Saturday night ER party with the O-ster. (before your anxiety spikes too high, please know he is doing much better today).

Today I have done some reflecting about yesterday...which spurred me on to do some reflecting about this past year. (Two weeks until Owen's 1st birthday may have something to do with my deep thoughts)....
Here is what I know to be true:
God gave me strength to handle preterm labor, NICU nights and a teeny tiny baby boy. He helped me persevere through hydrocephalus scares and breathing apneas. He held my hand when I could not hold John's during a scary ambulance ride...and he held it again when I could not hold Owen's during his medical transfer flight halfway across the country. He gave me purpose to pump and pump some more for 6 whole months when the nursing was a major struggle. He gave me time and energy to be with Owen for all of the extra doctor visits, bottles and snuggles. And above and beyond my hopes and prayers, he has blown my socks off with joy in the midst of it all. In new ways I have seen my weakness and real moments where all I could do was cling to God. I have learned a lot.

But yesterday afternoon a weak link in my strong mommy chain was discovered. Want to guess what I did when my son began projectile vomiting?

I hope you are thinking of an answer highlighting a cool, calm and collected Chrissy...I wish. Try again. Try I ran into the other room and cried (while my hero of a husband stayed steady and strong.) My baby boy is absolutely puking my guts out and MY gut reaction was to flee the scene. Perfect.

So in the process of realizing that I cannot handle scary baby gagging situations with much poise, my though was,"Ummmmm hello strong mommy gene, aren't you supposed to just kick in?? Where the bleep are you!?!?!?" {That would be me trying to muster up courage on my own.}

How quickly I forget that the Lord is with me...that in my mommy moments of weakness, God is mighty and brave and strong. And he provides what we need as we need it EVERY single time.

I did realize through talking to John that my tears were an outward expression of my inward fear that something was very wrong. We have been told to be on the lookout for Owen vomiting because it is a sign of hydrocephalus. (Hence why we had to head to the ER). The logical side of me knew that most likely he got choked up due to his congestion, but then it happened over and over and over and over...and my irrational fear side took over. Sweet baby Owen looked so scared and in pain and it was so tempting for me to just react to his emotion with my own.

Thankfully, God provided patience for all of us during our 4 hours in the emergency room.
Thankfully, Owen loves blue Gatorade (and we loved his blue tongue and lips).
Thankfully, Owen is going to be just fine.
Thankfully, he slept a solid 8 hours last night + 2 more and then had 5 hours worth of naps today.
Thankfully Daddy and O took the siesta, and mommy took the Starbucks this Sunday. And THAT, my friends, is why I got to blog today. Tis' always the season to give thanks and I do believe that the Trapps may have a thing or two to be thankful for this year. ; )