Counting the Moments…

I have observed recently that counting is a integral part or parenting.
It begins from the moments of planning to have a child. Counting the days each month for the highest chances to become pregnant. Waiting each month to find out if you might be pregnant. How many days, weeks or months must we wait? And then the day comes. Your confirmed pregnancy! The celebration begins. You begin to count again. Did we call or email everyone who would want to know? You know you missed some, but how can you remember everyone? And then in the back of your mind you also have to begin to count money. Are you spending too much, because now you have a child to save for? Its not only you. You begin to count the days and then the weeks of pregnancy. Then you may get a chance to hear and count your babies heartbeat during your check up. Is it too fast or too slow? “No”, the doctor says, “It’s just fine, it is meant to be fast”. Then the months of pregnancy are counted. The counting begins to pick up. How many diapers must I have to be prepared? How much is this going to cost? How many bibs do we need or socks? How many nasal suctions does one child need? (none if you ask my sister, who still refuses to suction her infants nose).

And then the time may come for an ultrasound check. How many fingers, how many toes? Does my child have each arm and leg intact? How many chambers in the heart 1,2,3,4 and do each beat as they should? And if I must know –is it a boy or a girl or two or three? The counting increases. Have we gone far enough in the pregnancy for our child to be safe? How much is the birth going to cost? How many weeks until I can see my toes again? How many more weeks must my back ache and my balance be off? How many degrees is it outside? Can it be any hotter around here? Can it be much longer till this child comes? Birth classes are counted. Breathing is taught –in and out—can it be that hard? Hold you breath how long? Is it breath and then exhale or inhale and then exhale. How many seconds between the two?

Time begins to change… This child must come out now! I can’t go a moment or a day longer more. How many moments, hours must I wait in this waiting room to see my OB/GYN.? How many times do I have to get up to pee? How many hours did I get to sleep before I must awake to pee again? Only to be told by the doctor, “Everything is fine” “Come back and see me next week”. 'What! another week?' your body screams, 'and no change!'. 'You have got to be kidding me!', and 'Why are you smiling? -You nasty, nasty doctor. Examine me again! You must be wrong. Something has to be happening with all this pain'. Each moment drags by as time slows down. How can each day be so long? The contractions begin. Are they true or false (Braxton hicks). Do they come regularly or slowly? Does it count if two are close, but the next two are far apart?

And then through the magic of labor, time speeds up and slows down on its own. The water breaks and the contractions become regular and there isn’t time enough. Do we have everything with us? Are the diapers packed? Do we have the breathing exercises memorized? Are we ready? A hint of a thought begins to float in your mind. And then, how much longer till we reach the hospital? How many cars could possibly be on the road at a time like this? How many cops are there out tonight? How many mph can this car go? Wait, how much time was there between that contraction and this one? Where is the watch? How can this be happing? Wait, how much is this going to cost? How long until we get there. Oh, there is the entrance. How many feet must I walk? How many steps can I take until the next contraction hits? How many wheelchairs does this hospital have and none are available right now? Where is the nurse? How much longer can this check in take. How many pages of information must they make us fill out? How much worse on a scale of 10 can this pain be? Finally the bed is reached. How many contractions until the baby is here? How many minutes between the contractions? How many centimeters dilated? How long can I take this pain- or- How many minutes until the anesthesiologist can make it with the epidural? How many breaths can I take? How many hours can this pain go on? How long until I hold my baby. The minutes of agony drag on like hours and the minutes of rest between contractions fly by like seconds….. And funny, how now, looking back, the memory begins to blur of those moments as if they occurred years ago. How does the magic of labor and time do that?

Time jumps back to reality as the child emerges. How many seconds until you hear a cry? Is the child okay? The seconds hang suspended like a grass blade in a spider web. As if no one noticed, the questions hangs, unanswered in the air. And then the cry is heard either struggling or screaming the sound echoes in the silence of the parents ears roaring back life and breath into your lungs. The pain no longer importantly takes every second of your thoughts. The image of your child alive breathes to life a vague acknowledgement in the back of your mind. Something big, monumental is happening. But then time speeds forward and you have yet to acknowledge it.
You get to hold the baby. Your first look. You may get to cut the cord. Then baby is whisked off for the staff to perform apgars test. How does your child score on activity, pulse, grimace, appearance and respiration? 0-10. Oh, let their first test score well. And then further to the nursery for footprints; their first shots, their first height, weight and head circumference measurements. Their first pediatric exam and their first baths. The first are far outnumbering us now. Their first pictures, the first phone calls to relatives and friends and their first starring role in home videos. All have been noted and stored as memories as that monumental thought grows. But no time for that .

Now the child needs fed. The nurse explains and steps away. The first attempts they all fail. Who’s to blame? – the child, the mother the nurse, experience or time. Ah, good old time is to blame. It’s been confirmed, for who could blame a soul?, now looking back. Each did their best and yet time had not past enough to make it smooth. And then the cries are counted. The tears from mother and child are counted. The head rubs and shoulder pats from father are counted. Ah, good old time is to blame. It’s been confirmed, for who could blame a soul?, now looking back. Each did their best and yet time had not past enough to make it smooth. What’s that thought that grows? No it can’t be true and yet it consumes every moment that ticks by. WE ARE NOW PARENTS. How can that be? How did nine months pass by so slowly and yet quickly.

We don’t know how to be parents. How could this have happened? The years are counted. Its official we can’t be old enough to be parents, and yet our parents had us when they were younger than we are. How did they do it? There aren’t enough moments in those years to have learned all we need to know. What does God the Maker of the Universe expect us to know about raising one of His children. Ah, yes, now we have it. The answers exist in the help of our Father. And the prayers are sent up quickly. Praise for the blessing of a healthy child and wails of fear and uncertainty for the help and knowledge for the next moments and days and years to come. And it is answered with peace that passes the understanding for the moment. Faith must carry the parents forward for now.

As the days pass more things are counted….
Numbers of fingers
Numbers of toes
Numbers of feedings.
Hours between feedings
Seconds and minutes until the child stops crying
Number of wet diapers
Number of dirty diapers.
How much money have we spent on diapers?
Time child sleeps
Time child is awake
Time parents are left to sleep and wishing for just a few more seconds, minutes or hours
Number of wet and dirty diapers again
Time till the feeding needs to occur
Time till the crying will stop
And then number of wet and dirty diapers again
Ounces or pounds of weight gained
Number of shots for immunizations
Dollars paid out to the hospital and doctor
Number of diapers to be bought at the store
Sizes for clothing to be worn for the moment or worn for the future.
Months in the future are counted out –will it be hot or cold for those future clothes
First smiles
First hair cuts
First teeth
First time the child bites someone
Number of steps tottered as they hold on to someone
Number of steps done on their own
First time they say da da
Number of times they say ma ma…..

I will add to the list as I have time to consider it further.