Acute AF Gratitude

At 1,167 days alcohol-free, I often take my sobriety for granted. But then there are moments where the gratitude I feel for my sobriety is acute and profound.

Yesterday, my son cut two of his fingers with scissors while attempting to make a paper mask for his Halloween costume. I was in the kitchen with him, washing dishes in the sink as he sat at the island. I can’t remember if he made a sound or if a mother’s intuition (or the eye in the back of my head) made me turn around, but when I looked over my shoulder he was holding up his pointer finger and the blood was already running down his hand.

I did all the right things: rinsed it, held it up, applied pressure. I called my husband, who, conveniently, is an EMT and who, inconveniently, was in New Hampshire. We FaceTimed so he could look at the cuts and said our son would not need stitches and to just keep doing what we were doing. We hung up the phone. I continued to reassure my son, and breathed with him. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He was becoming increasingly agitated and teary as the reality of what had happened sunk in. He turned his big saucer eyes up at me. And then they started to roll back into his head.

His legs went limp, and all 90+ pounds of him collapsed into my arms. Stress turned to panic as we sunk to the floor. I kept talking to him and he came to almost instantly, though he was scared and still out of it. He lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, his upper half in my lap. My daughter got him a pillow and some water. We called my husband again. His friend, who is also an EMT and lives down the street, came by a few minutes later to make sure my son was ok. He was, thank goodness.

Not a catastrophe, thank goodness. But one of those parenting moments that will be seared into my brain forever.

Later in the afternoon, after my husband got home, I took our dog for a walk to decompress and have a few minutes to myself. As I replayed the harrowing experience, I was struck by renewed gratitude for my sobriety. If I had still been drinking, I would have likely been hungover to start the morning. My son’s mishap with the scissors would have sent me into a total tailspin of anxiety.

As it was, once I got my kids settled on the couch in front of a show, I went into the laundry room and cried. What happened was scary, and I needed to get those tears out. If I had still been drinking, my cathartic weeping would have been panicked sobs. I would have started counting down the minutes until I could pour a glass of wine to calm my nerves. Instead of focusing on my son first and my own wellbeing second, I would have focused on my son first and wine second.

Because I am alcohol-free, I no longer have to attempt to parent through a hangover. I no longer have to wonder what would happen if an emergency occurs while I’m buzzed or drunk.

Because I am alcohol-free, I am present. I am steady. I am clear-headed. I still get anxious, I still get emotional. But with wine no longer fanning the flames, those intense emotions are much more manageable.

Because I am alcohol-free, we all came through yesterday’s chaos with love, and trust, and resilience.