coincidence?

Philosophical/religious/serendipitous rant to follow...

This afternoon, Ben refused to nap. Man, has he been a pill lately. I even went up into his room and laid there on the floor with him, but no such luck. Sophie came in and snorted up a storm and ruined the calm.

So I put him in his stroller and we walked up to South Street. We walked up to 2nd and back to 10th, and during this time he finally fell asleep. I was in front of the Whole Foods on 10th & South when I passed by an older woman, grandmother-age, sitting on a bench next to a stroller. I was walking slowly by because Ben was finally asleep, but as I walked by I saw her fidgeting with what looked like a little insulated lunch bag with wires coming out of it, and leading over to the baby in the stroller.

I'm really getting gutsy in my old age, because I stopped in my tracks, and like a nosy nellie, backed up slowly and asked the woman if that was an apnea monitor I saw. She looked tired, and said yes, this was her grandson Liam, and he was born 8 weeks premature, and had been sent home from the hospital with one.

I wanted to sit down with this woman and give her a hug - and then her daughter Jennifer, Liam's mom, came out of Whole Foods. And although I'd never met this woman before, I wanted to give her an even bigger hug. We talked for about 10 minutes there on the sidewalk, and I showed them Ben: big, sleeping in his stroller, now two years old. I told her that I know she couldn't even imagine two weeks in front of her, that it gets better, and there will be a day sometime soon when Liam doesn't have to be on the monitor anymore.

I wanted to just somehow take her pain from her. She was tired, and overwhelmed, and seemed to be so relieved to talk to someone who knew exactly what she was going through. She mentioned that her doctor had suggested a support group for moms of preemies, and then we both laughed at the idea that a support group actually entailed getting up and showering and driving somewhere to a meeting, a meeting where she couldn't bring her son because he's at risk for RSV and so he can't be around people... it's like this support group would cause more stress than anything right about now.

I felt like I was listening to myself from two years ago. She talked about the fact that she hates the monitor and yet relies on it at the same time, and how although she wants Liam to be rid of it, she is also nervous for the day that he doesn't 'need' it anymore - because at least now she has something that lets her know he is breathing, and alive.

She seemed really happy to have run into me, and her mother was especially appreciative that I'd been nosy and asked her about the wires. I gave her my email address - another gutsy move, but I swear I would have loved to have run into 'me' when Ben was 6 weeks old, like Liam is.

I had a friend, Tracy, who'd had twin boys born prematurely, but we didn't connect until Ben was a little older than Liam is now. She and I talked on the phone one day about a year and a half ago, both crying - me, because I was in the thick of it, and she, because she remembered how awful of a time she had with her twins. She told me she'd made a promise to God that if he got her boys out of the early stages safely, that she knew she'd be able to be a help to some other mother down the line. She was absolutely a light for me when I was in a rough patch with Ben - feeling sorry for me and Chris, and for Ben - and just not understanding the Why's of it all.

And I remember having a conversation with Chris' mom about that same time and talking to her about the fact that I just didn't understand why Ben's life began with such craziness. Please don't get me wrong - he was relatively healthy and is now the picture of health (except for some strange rash on his foot, but I digress), but it was just really hectic then. Forget day by day - I felt like I had to take things hour by hour.

And so I can't get her out of my mind. Call me crazy, but I feel like I was supposed to meet this new mom and her son Liam. I hadn't even planned on walking back past Whole Foods, but I saw some little kids out front handing out flyers and thought I'd take one to be nice. And after we said our goodbyes, and after I got my flyer and walked into the store, I exhaled so deeply. I felt like I had reached out my arms to this person I was supposed to meet, and I had told her what I was supposed to tell her: It's going to be okay. You will be stronger for this. You are a great Mama and Liam will be just fine.