The very first night we were home, I
I hung up the phone. Where do you go from there? I stood there looking at my baby thinking that at any minute, he could start bleeding from all his orifices. I started thinking about how the military hospital closest to our home was the same hospital that sent Sam to Duke because they couldn't properly care for him. I can't adequately describe the feelings of insufficiency that flooded me. I am not smart enough to do this. I can't do this. This is too much for me. Sam's needs are too great and he's too fragile to be at home in my care. In MY care. Me, the idiot that just gave him 10 times his dose of heparin. Good mothers don't do things like this.
Our first night home wasn't one of peaceful slumber for me. Of course, I had to be up all night to pump and feed Sam anyway, but the fear of Sam's blood leaving his body through his eyes definitely interfered with my getting any restful sleep between my nighttime obligations. I couldn't escape the knowledge: if he dies tonight, it's my fault. The baby that survived open heart surgery and two blood clots and being born six weeks early... I might have just set into motion his termination. Because of my stupidity and arrogance. Joy (almost always) comes in the morning. Sam did live through the night. He did not bleed from his eyes or his nose. His diapers were blessedly wet, but not with blood.
I hope I learned from that experience- that mothers who love deeply still make horrible mistakes- and also that there is grace even when I am stupid. So much grace and mercy. I prayed all night that God would grant my baby another chance. I asked forgiveness for harboring the pride that had held me back from making the call to ask the questions about dosage. At the same time, my doubts in myself began to grow rapidly. Humility is crucial. But I began to feel like my own value as a mother, and as a child of God, was in question. I still deal with this today, at this minute, right at this exact second. How did I end up with these two precious children?
"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in my weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (NIV, emphasis mine)
Boasting in my weakness, huh? Right. But my weaknesses are embarrassing and really, really.... WEAK. Like weaker than most. My weaknesses lead me to doubt my ability to raise my children and cause me to fear that one day someone will see through my human frailty and say, "OH my goodness- yes, this was a mistake! Those kids weren't really meant for YOU!" I am weak. He is strong. He likes it that way. If I was capable and powerful and awesome and perfect, I wouldn't need His help, would I? The weaker I am, the more I am aware of my need to have Him living in me. Empty me of myself, because I am weak. Fill that empty space with You- then I will be strong, not by my own power, but with the power that doesn't get tired from lack of sleep, or grumpy when I haven't had my coffee. I am going to share my weakness. I am going to put it out there and be vulnerable and that feels dangerous to me. But we are all weak. Our weaknesses may be different, but we are all frail. So, stay tuned for more on weakness. And I'll try not to cringe as I type.
Joni, this was so powerful and important for me to read today. I have been fighting with pride and bitterness and so many emotions that take my eyes off God and keep them on myself. Thank you for your timely vulnerability. I'm going to read this again 3 or 4 (dozen) times before I attempt to start my day. Keep 'em coming! :)
ReplyDeleteOh, and by the way, as a master's-level trained Physician Assistant, I have always been amazed at how difficult it is to figure out what medicines and doses to give to kids (even with my training). How do parents do it who haven't had training??? Crazy!
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ReplyDeleteOh Joni, I can't possibly express to you in the space of this little white comment box how much this post impacted me today. Like your friend above, I will read this post over and over. Thank you for sharing your story, and for reminding me of the amazing grace that my Jesus gives me when I fail as a mom (or a wife, or a child of God...). I have my own story of how God has worked in my life that He has been urging me to share but to be completely honest, I'm ashamed of parts of the story and scared to type them out for the world to see. Your reminder of His grace is just what I needed to hear today. ~Stacy
ReplyDeleteStacy, I get more human with every letter I type. I am a complete and miserable failure. But if I understand my Bible correctly, God would prefer that to shiny, plastic, fake perfection. "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." 1 Corinthians 4:7. What a relief it is- I only have to be a jar of clay. He'll do the rest. Whew.
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