I cried in the baby aisle at Target today. All because of a small yellow bath sponge. You know the kind that you can lay your baby on in the bath tub and it gives them a nice little cushion? That kind. Target hasn’t had it for months but I keep looking and today was no different. I threw the diapers in the cart and headed to look down the bath aisle. I stood there and looked at the baby tubs and bath seats and tears welled up in my eyes.
I felt so ridiculous. I was crying because they still don’t have the bath sponge. I was crying because my son is almost two and I’m still searching for an infant product. I was crying because it’s a reminder that another piece of equipment will soon be needed to care for him. I cried because I’m allowed to. Just because I have chosen to embrace our life and always look on the bright side doesn’t mean there aren’t occasional half empty moments.
Is the aisle at Target today I had a half empty moment.
I cried and gave myself permission to do so, but it had to be brief. I told myself it was okay to do, especially when my glass is overflowing so often. I thought about what fills my glass. I wiped my tears and my glass started filling up again. I thought about my new friendships with women that I admire and love. I thought about our boys and how much joy they bring to us. I thought about how complete strangers have found their way into our life and have blessed us big and small. I thought about all of our son’s accomplishments over the last year and felt so much pride. I thought about my amazing family and friends who are so willing to stand next to us on this journey.
I kept thinking of the countless blessings we have had over the last year and suddenly my glass was overflowing again. I felt overjoyed. Who knew a little yellow bath sponge could do all of that?
Oh, and Amazon sells my little yellow sponge so hopefully there won’t be any more tears at Target anytime soon. 😉
Sometimes I feel like Elphaba from Wicked. Green face. Different than others. Not wicked, just not like you. I’m in a different club. A club of green face moms who measure output and diligently measure milliliters of input. Our children have foreign objects in their body that help keep them alive. We compare poo consistency as if we are talking about the weather. Our children see their pediatricians and specialists more than our relatives. We’re different.
In the beginning, I would walk around Target and watch happy moms in their skinny jeans with their perfectly healthy children and want to scream. I wanted to run up and say “Don’t you know? My son’s brain is shrinking! How dare you have a happy normal life.” Other people don’t understand this….but the green face moms do. They completely get it. I don’t even have to explain a thing and they just know.
I attended a luncheon today and met other green face moms. It was more than I could have asked for. Amazing. Joyful. Sad. Therapeutic. Wonderful. A room full of strong women who have endured and are continuing to endure unimaginable heartache. There was flowing conversation, laughs, and of course, tears.
The best thing was….I wasn’t the only one in the room with a green face. I wasn’t alone. I’m not alone. I finally felt like I found my people. I was sitting at a table with a group of women who I have only connected with on Facebook. I am overjoyed that we all had a few hours this morning to just be girlfriends. We weren’t tending to our children, rescheduling appointments for the week, or writing down the 20th item on our to-do list. We were enjoying ourselves. We even shaved our legs and put mascara on our beautiful green faces.
I used to wish my green face would go away. It isn’t going to, and to be honest, I no longer want it to. I think I’m rockin’ the green face….and so are YOU my green face mamas. More than you know.
Thank you to Chad Greenway’s Lead the Way Foundation for bringing all of us together. Truly inspiring and life changing.