a morning ramble…

There are so many things running through my head right now, practical issues like babysitting, school, packing, figuring out food for the hospital, so many stupid things that I am sure in the end will work out. I worry about Kaleb, he’s going to Grandma and Grandpa’s so he’ll have a good time, but will he miss me? Will he miss Josh? What if his breathing causes issues? How do I handle to sick kids in two cities in two hospitals? That is when my chest tightens and my heart races a little. It’s a what if, I never used to worry about those, but suddenly I am plunged into a world of worry and guilt (that’s what child bearing does to you you know). I think about Josh, all the images from his last surgery flashing through my mind and my stomach turns. How are we here again? I said to Tim last night ‘I don’t know if I can ever trust a positive prognosis again’ and I meant it. I can hope in it, but I have found that I can not trust in it.

I find myself trying to remember everything from the last surgery so that I can plan for it, prepare as quickly as possible for the insanity we are about to walk into. I do not believe in a God of Chaos, I am once again trying to assure myself that God has a to bring this Chaos into order but I can’t help but ask when? I feel like Dorothy caught in the tornado, stuck on Oz and fighting the wicked witch of the west just trying to get home.

I wrote the other day on Twitter that in a world gone mad I need only look at my boys smiling and playing and giggling for it to be right again. Chaos made ordered by two young boys. I imagine God smiling when he sees moments like those, and I know he cries when the boys suffer. This was not what we were created for, it must break his heart.

Josh is at Grandmas and Gran-dad’s, while Kaleb was in hospital they took him for a couple of days so that we could concentrate on Kaleb, and I miss him. I see the dog standing outside waiting to come in and I know that if Josh was here he would jump up from whatever he was doing and go open the door for Charlie. I see Kaleb wandering aroud looking for his brother, his best friend, and I know that if Josh was here they would be fighting and stealing each other toys, I see Josh’s empty bed and I know that if he were here he would be loading all his toys onto it so that when bed time came he would have things to do. I miss him so much, and I can’t wait for his smile to once again light up the room this afternoon. He is well loved, well prayed for, and I have to remember these things when the guilt and fear and worry begin to unfold in my heart. In all the chaos it’s best to look straight ahead and up and hope that the noise around fades to the background.

My prayer as we enter this week is that we find we have tunnel vision, that the chaos can’t intrude, that we are so centered on our maker and his love for our son that we know only peace. With every surgery comes new insight, and we know from the last surgery that Josh has an allergy to morphine and we are hoping that this knowledge will aid in his recovery. He also has bandage allergies and this too can be helped with the knowledge. My prayer for Josh is that they fix that stupid valve, that as much as I don’t like that vavle that he will be allowed to keep it and not need it replaced and that when they replace the Pulmonary valve it will be with no leaks, and that his heart will finally shrink in size and become what it is supposed to be. My prayer is that the entry is quick and easy and causes to no bleeds. My hope and my prayer more than anything is that he knows peace, that when he wakes up they have no need to restrain him, that he will not try to fight the tubes and wires and masks, but rather that he will feel peace and want only rest. I didn’t pray for those things before and I learned that every step of this process needs to be brought before God.

A woman wrote just yesterday that a ‘mother’s heart is tender’ and she is right, it’s fragile and tender and so easily bruised. I ache for my kids, and I worry about them constantly and my prayer is that one day we will all know peace from the insanity, that Josh can finally begin school, a talking and happy and healthy little boy and that Kaleb will run around giggling and able to handle a cold or allergies without issue. Of course, I imagine even if that were true we would have stitches and broken bones to deal with. When they tell you motherhood is a forever commitment they don’t tell you what that commitment will really look like or feel like. I wouldn’t change a minute of it, not one second of it if it meant that I wouldn’t know these two little boys, but man the worry is new to me, and the guilt? WOW!


Published by lauriehaughton

Author & Photographer

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