Thursday, March 1, 2012

sometimes i'm afraid.

so here is the truth of the matter.

yesterday, i slept from the moment i walked in the door, until well after the cows came home.

in case that equation is too tricky, it estimates roughly 15 hours of sleep.

having a head cold, and crazy-mean-violent-monster morning sickness, and diabetes creates quite a walking disaster.

last night your daddy went out to buy us some more test strips to check my blood sugar. been doing an awful lot of that these days. some days i am only positive and hopeful. other days, like when a throat infection causes crazy blood sugar readings, i can't really hide the worried-sick-feelings.

did i ever tell you that you're already a miracle? we thought we lost you there for a hot minute. there was bad, sharp, deep, cramping and lots of painful bleeding, and tissue loss, and i thought i saw you come out.

i cried. a lot. and wept and cried some more. and your daddy lit candles so the light would be soothing and played sweet worship music and i cried and wept and cried. and i took about a hundred showers that week. and i threw up a lot, because, ugly detail as it is, the mornin' sickness was still in full swing. and i laid on the couch in heaps of blankets and hardly slept. and then around the fourth day i started to paint.

somewhere in all the sleeplessness and heart ache, i dozed off and dreamt of you. i dreamt i was standing in an overgrown field, and i was frantically searching for something. i had grips and grips of tall grass in my fists, and i was dirty, and tired, i could feel it, and i had been weeping- my face was swollen with grief. i was saying "where are you...?" then all around me the wind picked up, and hundreds of dandelions with it, and they all swirled and drifted away, toward the sky.

that was the first thing i painted. i painted you, in those dandelions, my little dandelion child, and the devastation i felt that week is living solid proof of the deep meaning in your life. you were meant for life. you were meant for me, because as it turns out, the answer to my question was RIGHT HERE. you were still right here, living in me, with every odd against you.

the doctor described you in broken english as, "so strong."

strength in a little, fragile, baby bird.

anyway. i wish that was enough to put every fear to silence. you have already lived when you should not have; you must be super-human-viking baby. but i know that you are still so small. and so reliant on me. and so reliant on my body. and my body is so feeble, sweet baby...my body can in one moment and one change of condition, become toxic for you. it's a painful awareness...

yesterday some sharp pains came back, like the ones i had before. those were a major contributor to the straight to bed strategy. i love you, painful amounts, and those pains reminded me that we are not out of the woods yet.

i just keep doing my best. pricking and poking away. you were not planned, little one. i mean, you were planned before time started and all the days on earth got rollin', you just weren't in MY plans. which makes this type 1 diabetes, foreign country, pregnant mommy thing a whole lot trickier. diabetic mamas are supposed to plan. painstakingly. far in advance. so i have fear about that, too...i wonder how your lungs are looking in there, and your tiny eyes, and your spine and your brain that will one day think up brilliant, amazing things. i worry about you. As your mama, I want my womb to be the safest place you could ever be. It is painful for me to know that it is not; that as such a tiny size you could be suffering.


1 O LORD, You have searched me and known me. 
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up; 
You understand my thought from afar. 
3 You scrutinize my path and my lying down, 
And are intimately acquainted with all my ways. 
4 Even before there is a word on my tongue, 
Behold, O LORD, You know it all. 
5 You have enclosed me behind and before, 
And laid Your hand upon me. 
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; 
It is too high, I cannot attain to it.






i think of Him protecting you inside that place of 'protection.' Protecting you from what should have protected you, but because of fallen nature and a fallen body, can't really do it's full job. 

i love you tiny one. your heavenly father loves you; and i just wanted to let you know that however you come out, you're already a totally mind blowing miracle. 

xo,
mama



No comments:

Post a Comment