As a mom you want the very best for your child. As a mom you want to see your child succeed at everything they do. As a mom you never want to see your child in pain, you would take it all if you could. As a mom you want to protect your child and see the very best for them. As a mom, you love your child so much that you would do anything for them.
What happens when you can't protect your child? What happens when the plans that were laid for your child don't match your dreams? What happens when the journey that God has planned for your little child is full of pain and heartache? What happens when the journey your child is on does not seem fair?
I think that this "unfair" feeling comes in many different forms. I thought it was unfair at first that my child would have Down syndrome. Then I thought it was unfair that I had to hand my seemingly healthy child off for a major surgery that would make her very sick. Then I thought it was unfair that my child had to waste her newborn days (over five months of them) laying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. And the list goes on.
However, through these "unfair" moments, they have grown me and stretched me. These "unfair" moments have made me see things that I would have completely missed. They have broken me and made me stronger. But the "unfair" moments have taught me some very important lessons. Lessons that have changed me to the core. I am better because of these "unfair" moments and I see so much in Lydia because of these "unfair" moments. Her sisters have become more compassionate and loving sisters (and people). Her dad has become a better dad because of these "unfair" moments. You hear the phrase to stop and smell the roses, but do we really? I feel like these "unfair" moments have made me and I am so grateful for those.
I walk to the bathroom and see Lydia's socks that she threw over the gate because she pulled them off for the hundredth time today. I hear the gentle slap of her hitting her sister over the head. I look over to see her mischievous smile as she brushes her head against her sister's and gives her an "I'm sorry" hug. I hear the giggles and laughter that fills the living room as she is suppose to be settling down for her afternoon nap. I hear the pitter patter of feet running across the floor as she runs away from her sisters. I feel the tight grip of her small chunky hands when she embraces me for a hug. I see her walking on the table after she pulled out the chair and climbed up. I see her smile as she says, "I know I was not suppose to do that, but look at how cute I am."
Life seems just perfect. Lydia is doing all of the things we dreamed of, the things we prayed for. So far God has allowed me to live this dream and experience things with Lydia that I never thought were possible. I have to remind myself of that over and over as she won't listen, she screams, or she just does the "normal" two year old stuff. For moments I forget that she was ever sick, there is no down syndrome, there are no delays, there is no throwing up, there is just life. It is not life that I thought I would have, but the life that God has given me on this crazy journey I call life. I enjoy it, I embrace it; all of it, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the miracles!
To think that she has to go in for another procedure terrifies me. Life is good right now, considering. I have learned so much, I have grown, my faith has increased, I have changed, and I believe that I have become a much better person. Isn't that enough? Isn't there room for a break, a little rest? I have been tested to the max and I haven't broke yet. God has carried me, He has shown me miracles, and He has shown me very dark times; but through it all He has shown me just how faithful He is.
Even though I try to rest in that, I just can't help but be nervous and anxious. I know that Lydia's life will be full of procedures and blood tests and worry and waiting. I know that she will always have some kind of issues, but I am not ready for it, just not yet. I want to wait just a little. I want to enjoy her, I want to watch her develop and I want to soak in her very contagious personality just a little more. I want to rock her and smell her sweet smell. I want to watch her get in trouble and see her sweet smile. I want to embrace all of the moments life has to offer.
I don't want to have to hand her off to a doctor. I don't want to have to sit and wait and worry. I don't want them to go over the risks and potential side effects. I don't want to know about the what-ifs. I don't want to hear the best case-worst case scenario. I don't want to, but I am called to this life. I am called for this journey. And if I have learned one thing at all on this journey, it is to embrace the moment and not fight the journey. I know that it is not fair, but nothing is. All I can do is my best. Love her as God has called me to love her, hold her and be the mom that God has called me to be to her, no matter what. Fair or unfair, this is the life God has given me and I will continue to rest in Him.
As I prepare Lydia (and myself) for another procedure, another round of waiting, another unfair moment, I will be thankful for what I have been given. We have a life with Lydia that is full of blessings, that is full of love. I have tried to live every moment to the fullest and I don't regret our decisions, our time with her, or this life. It is not fair to see your child hurt or sick. It is not fair to hand your child off to a doctor, to sit and wait for the results. It is not fair that they are looking for cancer or more issues. It is not fair to think about what they may find.
But as I have learned, nothing is fair. And if every moment was fair, we would not grow and we would not learn. If everything was fair, life would be boring. I will take these "unfair" moments because in them I have learned so much. To think that life was not fair because I was having a child with Down syndrome, it was plain silly. My life is so rich and full of joy because of Lydia. See, I can be wrapped up in the unfairness of it all, or I can learn to take the fair and unfair moments and learn and grow. I can take these unfair moments and make them the blessing in disguise that they are. Tough. Yes, but a blessing none the less.
And it does not take away the pain or the feelings of unfairness, but I will chose to fight and stay strong for Lydia. I will chose to try to look at the blessings because of these "unfair" moments. After all, this is the only life she knows and by looking at her, it is a great one!
Please keep Lydia in prayer on Thursday. She will go in for a couple scopes and a biopsy. We pray that there is no cancer, there is no inflammation, that there is no allergy, and that there is no narrowing. We pray that Lydia handles the not eating well, and that she handles the breathing tube and the anesthetic. We pray that God will continue to hold us and guide us. We pray that she will continue to be strong and healthy. Thanks in advance for your support and prayers!