It was always hot.
I was the only one who thought so. Everyone who walked in was delighted by the coolness compared to the triple digit temperatures outside.
But I was always sweating.
They even gave me a fan, but that just made me shiver from the sweat that dried on my exhausted body.
The room was more spacious than anyone expected. We quite easily fit five members of my side of the family along with three of Cort’s in addition to the three of us.
And it still felt big.
But maybe that is because I suddenly felt small.
Even with the throngs of people coming in and out? I felt that we were shielded somehow.
This was a room for miracles.
(Even if my miracle happened downstairs in a different room.)
I had everything I needed contained in this one room:
A Styrofoam cup full of ice water.
My meals delivered.
My laptop and my phone.
A private bathroom with a much used grab bar.
A doting husband.
A happy baby (yes, I said happy).
In this room…
I slept better and harder than I ever have in my life.
I sniffed my baby’s head for the first time.
I sweated, and pushed, and cried, and shed all inhibitions in exchange for feeling better and having a healthy child.
I trusted completely.
This room took care of our needs and made it ok for us to be partitioned and sheltered from the rest of the world.
Life was out there…moving and growing…but in here? In this room? Time stood still.
We were a small family: a mom in her adjustable bed, a dad resting on a small couch, and a son swaddled and asleep on his father’s chest. In the dark room we watched the Detroit Tigers sweep the Cubs.
We witnessed the departure of the King of Pop.
We absorbed the fall of an Angel.
We marked the exit of a treasured Announcer…all while being disconnected from the world…as a family.
We felt safe and untouchable here.
That is why, as I stood at the window in the first real clothes that I could squeeze into in days with my baby in his first real clothes of his life, I cried.
As my husband took our bags to the truck and prepared to usher his family…not just his wife…to their home, I wept.
This room was were our family had begun.
This was all my son knew of the world. He was safe. I was safe.
Nothing touched us here.
And so much would once we left room 3010.
psst. I am over at my friend, Natalie’s blog, Mommy of a Monster and Twins, today too sharing about a Monster Mommy Moment of mine. Please tell me you can relate to this…it will make me feel so much better!
pssst again…I am trying to win a grant to fund my trip to BlogHer. If you are on facebook, please click here to vote every day!