the squirmer and the sick

The first time I ever took Cole to Wal Mart, he got sick. The second time I took Cole to Wal Mart (last Saturday), he got sick again.

I should add that I've only shopped at Wal Mart twice since having Cole almost a year ago. I prefer Target. I guess you could say that I bleed red in more than one way.

Anyway, my little man is sick. Very sick. So sick that when he tries to cry, I cry too. So sick that he actually wants me to hold him - some of the time. For the past few nights I have rocked and rocked my little one as he tries to rest in my arms. Two nights ago, as Cole finally slipped into a restful sleep, I noticed the little squirmer in my belly. He was dancing and practicing, flittering and fluttering all over the place. The feeling was so familiar; Cole was such a squirmer too. As I rocked back and forth, enjoying the moment with both of my babies, I looked down to notice Cole's tiny, perfect little hand resting right where baby brother was kicking. His five little fingers stretched out, as if he was trying to hold on to something, trying to tell his best friend that no matter what, he would be there for him...that we were a team, that we stick together, even through the rough nights. 

A smile spread across my tired face as I remembered the first time I felt this baby move. I was feeding Cole before bedtime, and I said quietly, "is Cole going to have a brother?". The fish-like sensation I knew so well with Cole was repeated back to me, as if baby boy was trying to say "Yes! You know me! Here I am!". He did it again and again, over and over that night. 

For the past few days I have been in the company of one very sick, yet very pleasant little boy, and one terrifyingly busy little baby. When I finally get the chance to lie down in my own bed, this little one kicks and wiggles without stopping - constant reminders for me to stay awake and enjoy his presence. 

There is something so magical about these moments. Caring for Cole has been tiring, and the constant wiggling in my stomach makes me feel nauseous indeed, but what if I didn't have these experiences? What if I never knew what it was like to hold a sick child, to comfort, to give all that I had? What if I never had the opportunity to feel these flips and jabs from a growing baby inside of me? 

I am grateful. I am blessed. I never want to take my family for granted...even the squirmy and sick ones!