Okay, so I realize I sort of vanished here but if you follow me on instagram (@ourmisfitisle) you know it was for good reason. First we were on vacation down in good ol' New Brunswick having a blast visiting our families. But then while on our first day of driving back home we got a call from our social worker. She explained to us she had an emergency situation and needed our help. A special needs baby needed an immediate 1 month emergency placement the next day as he was being released from the hospital and they had no where for him to go. So, in a moment of insanity we said yes. It was the right thing to do. When someone asks you to help you say yes.
Then we freaked out, both in different ways. I wanted to talk about it and plan, Max wanted to sit in silence and process. So for hours we swapped between talking and sitting in silence. By the time we reached Montreal we started to panic. We only had a few hours until the stores closed and we needed to get everything you need for a baby. And we needed to get into a car that was already jam packed. So we scrambled running through Target like crazy people, because we had no idea what you need for a baby. To be honest we are not baby people. I mean, I took care of my nephew a bit when he was a baby but other than that we have never been baby people. We both love toddlers and we were prepared for toddlers. We have never been prepared to have a baby in our house even for a little while. So we just bought everything in sight you need for a baby. Bibs, cribs, blankets, hats, socks, vibrating chair, pants, shirts, pacifiers, toys, books and on and on. Then we spent hours in the parking lot trying to get it to all fit safely into our car.
We didn't sleep a wink that night. Not only were we going to pick up a baby the next day but then we needed to keep driving back home with said baby for another 17 hours. And on top of all that we were going to pick up a baby that was surely going to break our hearts when we went away.
The next day we drove into the city to pick up the baby. When we walked into his room I nearly had a heart attack. He was so small and I was there to take care of him. Me. I was the one they were putting in charge of this tiny little thing. Almost two months and not even 7 pounds. I felt so overwhelmed I almost fainted. The next hours were a blur of medications, routines, car seats, crying and driving until I felt like my eyes were going to bleed.
The next morning when we woke up, Max went down to get my breakfast at the hotel and we were alone for the first time. I laid his tiny little head of my chest and just stared at his beautiful face and looked long into those sweet eyes as he cooed. It was mother's day and there I was mothering. Not a mother, but mothering this sweet little tiny boy. It was more than surreal.
Then Max came back and we were on the road again for the last 10 hour stretch of our drive home, which ended in us driving through a blizzard for hours. But we all made it safe and sound and together.
Even if it's just for a little while.
Cheers to tiny boys getting strong.