This post is one that has been brewing for a long time. In many ways it is the post I have been working on the longest–perhaps even before The Cute Syndrome existed.
The problem is that in facing this issue of negativity, I run the risk of falling into the same behaviors I am trying to draw attention to. And that we can’t have.
You see, I have become fed up with negativity. It has been a slow process of shedding portions of my own negativity…I am not claiming to have shed it all (and there was a lot, mind you, to begin with). But what remains is unwelcome, habits and behaviors I intend to break one at a time.
There have been stages to this process, typically precipitated by a humbling look at myself.
The first such experience was when Esmé was only a few days old, still in the Neonatal ICU, still not eating. The reality that she might have some significant impairments was occasionally coming clear, only to be battled back by my denial, fear, and pain. The extent to which Esmé’s life and abilities would differ from what we understood as typical was (as it remains) unclear.
One morning while getting breakfast in the cafeteria I watched the man who was helping make breakfast. He must have been filling in for the usual man. He showed the signs of many of the things we discussed upstairs in the NICU: delays in processing information, lack of coordination, speech impediments. He struggled to get the orders, to understand, to make them right while three men stood there arms crossed, feet tapping, mouths smirking because he took too long. One woman snapped when he didn’t understand her clearly.
Standing there I thought about my internal frustration that he missed part of my order and the snappy woman got the last hash brown–my hash brown (food is pretty precious to a new mom!). Then I thought about the look on his face when I smiled at him instead of saying anything. It seemed no one else had bothered to smile at him all morning. And any frustration melted away. I thought about his parents and how lucky they were to have such a clearly good natured son who wanted to be productive, to find meaning through working hard and challenging himself. And I thought about how horrified they would be to know how poorly this sweet man was treated by people who couldn’t be bothered to slow down enough to see what a beautiful thing he was doing.
Sometimes I wonder if he was an angel or a vision of some sort. I certainly was in the right position to hallucinate, having just given birth but being unable to recuperate (leaving my hospital six hours after Ezzy’s birth), living out of a hotel room, stressed beyond my breaking point…I never saw him again–but I looked. Everyday I looked for him. Maybe he just returned to working in the back or something. But, his patient determination and kind smile was the beginning of my letting go of negativity. If he could stand there working so hard at something with so little encouragement…what did I have to be negative about?
But honestly, I didn’t learn everything I should have or could have from him. I have spent far too much time angry, frustrated, feeling negative. As I said, I am trying.
I had a similar reminder when we were inpatient last week after Ezzy’s surgery. Watching one particular family whose son is Ezzy’s age and has been inpatient for over a year as he struggles with multiple health issues. This family was very far from home in many ways. Although they come from only a few hours further than we do, they are Amish and are living in a completely different world, in a major city, far from their way of life. Every morning they were up early, eating breakfast in the family room, eager to chat, quick with a kind word or inquiry, and ready with a smile. I adored them and their son almost instantly.
The father makes money doing leatherwork, selling belts and bracelets with names embossed on them. He made this for me.
Again I found inspiration in a hospital…a solid reminder of our tremendous good fortune…not only in the success of Esmé’s surgery and her tremendous progress, but in our ability to be brought together with some awe-inspiring people who we never would have met if not for our shared world of chronically and critically ill children–children who inspire in their parents patience, strength they did not know they had, pushing them to discover new worlds in order to keep their children safe.
Finally we came home to another reminder of the good that already exists in our lives. Our lovely friends and neighbors–who have two little ones and two careers to juggle–watched over our home and our kitties with such love, even clearing our driveway and walkways of snow on our return day. We are so very blessed in our new community, as we were in our old community.
Now more than ever I choose to surround myself with people who are positive forces in the world…my current step toward positivity is to not dwell on those that aren’t…
After that, I need to start dealing with my grumpiness!