TEN

May 25, 2004 the Terbutaline pump that had been used to keep my labor in check for 8 1/2 weeks of hospitalized bedrest was removed. My perinatologist quipped that it could be hours or weeks until our wee ones made their grand entrance. Contractions picked up late that night and we met our long awaited blessings early the next afternoon.

Although it has been ten years, it only takes a few moments of reflection to bring back the fear and the fog of those days.

Eighteen months prior I had been deemed infertile.

Ten months later I'd been told my eggs "really didn't look good" and "this injection was probably not going to work."

I had a negative pregnancy test only four days before the faintest of faint lines appeared leading me to ask for a blood test to see if maybe, just maybe, one of those eggs had been ok after all.

Two weeks after that my husband and I received the most shocking news of our lives--there were THREE tiny humans growing in my womb. This was followed by medical counsel to 'selectively reduce' down to twins or a singleton because there was a 30% chance at least one of our babies wouldn't make it to birth.

At 22 weeks I was on home bedrest and at 23 weeks I was admitted for the duration of my pregnancy.

And when they delivered these teeny, tiny two and three pound bundles at 31 weeks, we still were not out of the woods by a long shot.

I'll spare you the ups and downs and twists and turns of everything since then--I have eight years' worth of blog archives for that. ;-) But tonight as we went for a family walk to "watch the sunset on our single digits" my heart could scarcely take the wave of overwhelming gratefulness. 

Oh, how I wish I had a time machine to go back to that girl I was...

The newly married woman sobbing over the infertility diagnosis, wondering if I'd ever get a shot at being anyone's Mama...convinced my identity somehow depended on it.

The pregnant lady alternating between weeping and shouting Jennifer Knapp songs the entire 75 minute drive to and from each OB/GYN and Perinatology visit--terrified the ultrasound would reveal a missing heartbeat.

The one who heard the whispers in the halls of the High Risk Pregnancy Unit when another Mama would deliver too early and suffer a terrible loss.

The patient who had to stop reading the books because the litany of preemie complications were too scary.

The new Mom who was lonely, frightened and overwhelmed during the ICU/NICU days.

The exhausted toddler Mama who has just heard scary diagnoses--and the one who became seasoned at scheduled pediatric therapy visits.

And the one who even now wakes up sometimes overwhelmed and worried that I am royally messing up these kids.

I just want to show my younger self these pictures and remind her to breathe.

The kids are gonna be alright--and so are you. More than alright, actually, you are going to laugh and love and yell and sigh and find yourself stretched in ways you never knew possible.

Life is far from perfect. We have issues galore, but so does every body else...and it is OK

Oh, and they are going to age you...in wisdom and in wrinkles...but you will have earned it.

And one day you will find yourself sitting by lamplight in that rocker glider you registered for a decade ago, completely sure that every single minute of it has been worth it.

It was a fitting God-incidence that the Children's Worship lesson I was assigned to teach today repeated the refrain "the story is not over yet." How frequently we all need to be reminded on this journey to not lose hope, keep holding on, God's still at work, and this story is not over yet! 

A whole decade under our belt! Here's to the next...

More on Gifts and Talents

So, Glennon at Momastery is absolutely my new favorite blogger. Her take on parenting is so real and so beautifully focused on what really matters. (I linked to her last week for her Carpe Diem post. If you missed that it is also a MUST READ for parents.)

Today's entry "On Gifts and Talents" is so timely and struck me right in the heart. Every 'good' parent worries for their children. I have noticed in my own experience there also tends to be the child in each family that the parents worry over the most.

One of my trio is 'the one' who has had specialists, diagnoses and therapists over the years for various issues. I worry over him and his siblings worry over him. Ironically, HE does not worry over himself. :-) One of the most beautiful encounters I have ever had with a therapist happened shortly after P's 1st birthday. As we scheduled his MRI and his Physical Therapist tried to prepare me for the results. Based on his muscle tone she suspected we would get a diagnosis of mild cerebral palsy. I could not contain my tears.

As an expectant mother during a difficult pregnancy, CP had been my nemesis. All of the bedrest, the drugs, the attempts to postpone delivery were targeted at "making it to 32 weeks" because that is when the risk of CP drops off sharply.

I sat on the light green berber carpet that morning crying and wondering if my boy would ever walk without assistance. The Physical Therapist, a Mom of three older girls, said somewhat abruptly: "Listen. None of your children are going to be perfect. He's not the only one who will have problems. They will too. They may not be visible and physical or bear a scary name. They might be emotional, psychological, social or spiritual--they might be more complicated and have a greater impact on their life than this. None of us are perfect."

I stopped crying and gulped. I was not sure whether to thank her or be angry that she had just added even more to my list of worries. Seven years later I can say without reservation that she is right. All kids/people have issues, struggles, weaknesses, challenges...but we all have gifts too.

A couple of years ago, I stopped feeling sorry for P. He is FINE. My bespectacled boy is a well adjusted, joyful, intelligent, creative, funny and PRECIOUS child. I adore him. He is a gift to my life and I have no doubt God has big plans for him.

I also realized that my other children have their share of challenges too--they just don't have diagnosis codes or therapy plans to go with them. (Sometimes I think the world might go a little easier on them if they did.) K & R have challenges as all children do--but they have unique and special gifts to offer the world too. As their Mama, I think my role is to help them discern what issues could be potentially debilitating and dial those down--while recognizing/refining their gifts and finding ways to dial those up. Frankly, it is what God uses this life to do to me.

Glennon spoke words straight from and to my heart with her post. May home be the place where I children (and I would venture to add spouses) are reminded how loved and valued they are. Where improvement needs to happen, may it be a loving pruning that's motive is always to insure future growth and health.

God created us, sustains us and has written us each a story. Let's turn the page with trust, joy and anticipation rather than fear and dread.

7 Year Old Stats

We had our 7 year old well child appointments today. It is always fun for me to mark this place in time with 'the numbers' of how they have grown.

K 43.75 inches 38 lbs (originally 13 inches 2lbs 12oz)
P 44.75 inches 38.5 lbs (originally 13 inches 2lbs 6oz)
R 46.25 inches 43.5 lbs (originally 14 inches 3 lbs 3oz)

It was a good visit, although I confess that I was a bit surprised to hear that one of mine might be suffering from asthma. Apparently, it is yet another side effect of premature birth.

I am not sure why I always assume we have 'outgrown' preemie issues...but even at 7 years old it is just not the case. Between my three, we have multiple diagnoses that stem from early birth...mild CP, developmental delay, ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorder, asthma. (This doesn't include the havoc a triplet pregnancy brought to my body through heart failure.)

As I was driving home feeling worried about yet another addition to our medical history I had to laugh that just seeing us you wouldn't guess it. Everyone is happy, thriving and from my perspective healthy. I was reminded of a gem from my friend Cabell: Something can be a part of your history without being your identity.

If you had read this list of issues to me 7 years ago (not to mention some of the hospitalizations and surgeries in the early days that aren't even listed as current issues) I would have been terrified and disheartened. It all sounds worse than it actually feels. Despite what our medical history might state...we certainly feel fine.

It is an important reminder of how some of the very things that can seem so dreadful and scary can simply become a part of your journey. None of us are perfectly healthy. None of our relationships are flawless. None of our lives are without challenges.

We can allow ourselves to become paralyzed with fear, dwell (or wallow) on the parts of our lives that are broken or we can keep moving forward, accepting them as just a part of where our lines have fallen and look for ways to seek God through them and glorify Him as we go. It really is a choice.

I choose joy. I choose faith. I choose thankfulness.

Reflect on your present blessings of which everyone has many, not on your past misfortunes of which all have some. -Charles Dickens