Dear Stanton,
Mommy and Daddy so want you to feel better so that you can be a happy little world explorer. I know you must get frustrated with our limited ability to understand your thoughts and babble. We are trying and thank you for your patience. We can't wait for you to master the English vocabulary so you can tell us what hurts, what doesn't, what helps your body and what you might like to try.
Oh, we long for the day that all of this is a distant memory...one you won't remember at all, except through pictures and stories...one that sounds like it must have been someone else's life. And yet, at the same time, we realize these experiences with you have been a gift. How else we could truly empathize with other families in the hospital and know how to fill those simple needs that others may be unaware of? How else could we know that God's plan is perfect? How else could we experience the journey without knowing the destination? How else could we have spent everyday holding you, memorizing all of you while smelling your sweet baby skin? Through your illness - we have become stronger than we ever thought possible. We have to be. We have been given the charge of protecting you and growing you into an amazing person for the world.
Mommy and Daddy and you are a team!
I wish I had a fraction of your patience or rather, I wish I had *more* than a fraction of patience. I don't know how you do it.
ReplyDeleteIt is horribly painful as a momma when they can't tell you what's hurting or what they're feeling. :(
ReplyDeleteYour blog title makes me think of that song "My Jesus." There's a part that says most churches wouldn't let Jesus in the door because he'd get blood stains on the carpet.
ReplyDelete