Motherhood and Nuclear Birthdays

So on January 13^th at 8:07 AM I received an Emergency Alert that Hawaii was under attack, missiles inbound, not a drill, take shelter, have affairs in order in the next four minutes, say goodbyes, blah blah blah. 

did not think to take a screen shot at 8:07 AM when the alert came in...

 

Let me back up...

My 45^th birthday was coming up. As best birthday present to myself ever, I had my best girlfriend Donna and my Heart Mother Gail fly in at the same time. Donna got here Tuesday and Gail on Wednesday. Thursday night I was settling down to sleep feeling all warm and fuzzy that my favorite people were all under the same roof with me. My mom, my bestie, my Beastie (partner pet name) and my 15 month old son. The only person missing was my aunt Joyce. Suddenly my feelings of both warm and fuzzy hit full reverse. I actually had to pull myself back from the edge of a small panic attack. Know how too many heads of state are not supposed to be in the same place at the same time? If they were “taken out” there would be no leadership left for the country? Well that's where my head went. Too many precious resources in the same place at the same time! I had to acknowledge the thought and then push it away. “Don't be silly,” I told myself, “you worry too much – you can turn a good time into a bad one with your thoughts.”

When I got the alert I had to read it two or three times, waiting for it to mean something other than what I was reading. My blood turned to ice and the ice was excoriating the insides of all the veins in my head. I was light headed and had a head rush at the same time. I rousted my other half who was blissfully sleeping in. He told me to fill the bath tubs with water. (I was just getting ready to take a morning bath with my son). I had already laid out a clean post bath outfit for my son, so I asked Donna to give him a dry diaper and his fresh outfit (I had the thought that this may be one of the last acts of care that could be provided for him). He would have gone down for a morning nap right after his bath, and was showing the first signs of pre nap crankiness. I held him a moment and kissed his head for the millionth time, and he fell right to sleep. 

The actual nap he was taking as I awaited doom

 

I felt a wave of guilt as I realized Donna and Gail were here wrapped up in this mess because of me. Do they make a postcard for this? The air is radioactive! Wish I wasn't here! Thursday's premonition scuttled through my swirling thoughts. I threw some clothes on – how does one dress for the Apocalypse? The seconds it took to feel all these feels – the only thing that mattered was my son. I want him to live healthy happy and unscathed at any cost. How do I save my baby from death that falls from the sky? If we had a countdown to impact, I would have just gotten in the pack and play with my son and held him. (I already know I fit, I have gotten in with him on a hard teething night hoping he would find it funny). If we faced oblivion we were going together, and I hoped he would not feel my white hot fear and just feel how very much I love him (which is roughly metric tons more than I knew was possible...)

So many thoughts. Why am I not sure what else to do? No time to get away. Does Maui even have bomb shelters? It would take 20 minutes for a missile to get here from Korea, and no telling how long after launch the announcement was made. I had conscious thought that I'm not even mad at North Korea, there are plenty of sweet beautiful innocent babies there too. This is all a fucking penis measuring contest between two impudent blowhard children with shiny red buttons on their desks. We've put together a good hurricane/tsunami kit. Nuclear attack? We're supposed to have potassium iodide right? I looked down at my sleeping child convinced that if “they” could see just how beautiful and full of promise he was none of this would have ever happened. Don't they know what they are destroying? That they are ruining the only world we all have to live on?

People were racing down our main highway over 100 mph trying to get to the airport and get away. People were using sewers and storm drains as fallout shelters taking their child underground. I berated myself for not thinking to close the windows and the blinds. I couldn't think very clearly, and I was unable to pull myself away from watching my sleeping child, keeping him safe by sheer will.

Even when the false alarm was announced the longest 38 minutes later, I didn't believe it. I figured the powers that be wanted us to die like happy oblivious sheep. I had an appointment to have my hair cut the same day – it had been about a year. In the last many years I have not allowed more than a grudging inch to be trimmed off. I asked the beautician how much of my hair really needed to be cut off, and just said “OK, do it” to the four or five inches she indicated. Easier to do when you think there's a good chance you'll just be a pile of ashes in a circle around your child's ashes. My birthday party was the next day and kind of became a “YAY I DIDN'T DIE” party. I laughed, and drank it away for the first few days. It really hit me towards the end of the week – Thursday I was teary all day. My son was not quite himself for days after as well, as if he could feel the collective angst of the island. 

  I think something happened, and we'll never know just what. Social experiment? Was Korea being watched by satellite to watch their defensive movements (and locate their resources?) as the globe believed they were starting WW III? And a few days later a false alarm was raised in Japan. Something.

We don't know how many times our heart will beat, how many breaths will blow through our lungs in our lifetime. My other waxes philosophical that facing ones own mortality without flinching turns the noise on bullshit WAY down – the annoying cashier, the jerk in traffic, first world problems. I ran through many thoughts and emotions in those 38 minutes and came up with the answer to “What is important?” Love. I put up what may have been my last FaceBook post: “feel my love and remember me.” I hoped that even if I ended Saturday, love would still win in the grand scheme of humans. Most of all my son. He is a miracle that continues to escape the full grasp of both my medical and spiritual mind. I treasure him most.