Parenthood-The Land of Unknowns

We knew even before we got pregnant that we'd have no idea how to be parents. Sure, we knew the general ideas, but not the nitty, gritty, dirty, confusing, scary stuff. So many times during my pregnancy I googled different words trying to describe what I was feeling inside of me for hopes of finding out that those feelings were "normal".  Praise the Lord, they all were. Little did we know, even a normal, perfect, "picture of health" pregnancy doesn't always translate to a normal, perfectly healthy baby.

I've been trying to write this post for a while. I have about 4 different drafts of posts about different aspects of the past 3 months, but they all revolve around the same theme; I have no idea what I'm doing. Those earlier drafts are hopeless, you can feel the sadness in the words written there. This post, though, is going to be quite different than the drafts I'd written. Why? Because, now I know it's okay. No, not just "know".  Now I believe it's okay.

I recently watched a show (during Henry's nap of course... as if there aren't more important things to do during that hour) where some doctors had to tell a family that their newborn babies were sick. The camera zoomed in on the parents' faces as their worst nightmare - no, something they couldn't have even dreamed - was coming true. Right then and there (I was standing in the kitchen doing dishes... see? I do do stuff during Henry's nap. Ah, the glories of multitasking) it hit me. I actually understood what those parents were feeling. Not just like, "Oh, ya, I understand... poor parents" but an actual, agonizing pain in my heart as I remembered the morning a nurse came in and delivered similar news to me. And that morning wasn't a tv show. It wasn't two actors playing characters and reading lines. There was a real nurse who was actually telling me that a helicopter was coming to pick up my son and take him to a different hospital because they couldn't treat him where we were. The unknowns swirled in my head as we watched the helivac team take our son away before I was even discharged. What could be wrong with our sweet baby boy? Was this a result of something I did or didn't do during pregnancy? Was this our fault because we got our dates wrong and induced the labor of a baby who wasn't yet full-term? I remember being held in the strong arms of my husband waiting for the doctor to discharge me. Just like a scene from that dumb show, I can see us standing silently in front of that sunny window, my arms not even able to lift around my husbands waist; just hanging there as the weight of the world - our world - tied them down.

Our sweet guy while we were in the hospital.

The next few days turned into weeks that came in waves of good news and bad news. We were transferred to yet another hospital where we ultimately received news of our son's diagnosis; a syndrome that we hadn't even heard of before. So many people told us that our baby was lucky to have us as parents. That our faith and trust in our Creator made us the perfect candidates to raise Henry. I can't say that I always agreed with them. Surely there was a couple out there somewhere who was just a bit older, more mature, maybe even slightly more prepared to take on such an unexpected challenge. There were so many times that I told people that what was happening was okay. That I trusted God and His plan for our son's life. As much as I knew that God really was trustworthy, and that His plan really was best, I often struggled to believe it. Struggled to lay every hurt, worry and tear on that fact. Honestly, I'd never struggled between emotions as much as I did in the first month - make that the first two months - of Henry's life. I would go from truly being at peace with the situation to begin a complete mess with worry and doubt in a matter of seconds.

I write this now, feeling like a soldier after a long, gruesome battle. Weary and dirty, standing among the carnage of sorrow and doubt, but knowing that now there is peace. The worry is gone. The fight is over.

So, what changed? What has brought me from a place of "knowing" to "believing"? Well, quite honestly, a good cry with a dear friend, and a long, hard conversation with my husband. The cry helped me to realize that I was still sad. The conversation carried me past that sadness. For too long, I had focused on what happened, forgetting to let the happiness of "now" shine through. Now I no longer have to just say, "It's going to be okay", because I know that it's already been okay. We've been through a lot, and we survived with God's help. Now, my Thomas-like heart can believe it. Jesus told His doubting disciple, "Blessed are those who have not seen and still believe." So, having seen my fault, and knowing there will be so many more situations where I will battle between knowing and believing, I cry, "I do believe; help my unbelief!"

So, I guess I'm back where I started; not knowing anything. Of course, I know more than I did when I was pregnant. I certainly know more than I did way back before I was pregnant! Like, for instance, what 3 am feels like, and how not to freak out when a baby doesn't poop for 3 days (who knew breast milk was so easily digestible!). But, there are still so many unknowns that we will come to as a family. So, we start trusting God now for future unknowns. That way, when we get there, we can say, "Oh, there you are, I've been waiting for you." And we can let our Shepherd take over from there.