Despite the melancholy title of this post, this has been a better week than last week. Less tears, more acceptance and determination. We spent most of last week letting our close friends know and grieving the loss of what would probably have been a completely normal childhood for our son. We are now looking towards daily medications and frequent lab work and doctor's visits. It has been a weird emotion of uncertainty and fear at a time that usually is very happy for new parents.
I have decided for the sake of privacy (the Kid and Dude will likely eventually read this blog and I need to respect their future need to keep family medical information private) to not discuss the details ad nauseum on the blog. Suffice it to say that, he is not contagious, he will be on daily medications, he has a reasonable chance at having a relatively normal lifestyle, although we may need to make adjustments as a family, and I will probably be the world's most annoying parent (can we saying micro-managing pediatrician mom?). There is also the potential for him to get very sick very fast, so we are hopeful that he will be one of the lucky ones spared the more serious aspects of his chronic illness.
The idea of sorrow and love existing in the same emotional space comes from one of my favorite hymns, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross. As Dolly Parton famously said in Steel Magnolias, "laughter through tears is my favorite emotion". There have been a lot of tears recently. However, the Dude's name means "joy has come". In the midst of this unexpected grief, we have a gorgeously chubby little boy who is the best thing to happen to our family since his sister was born almost 5 years ago. He is our joy and was very much prayed over, even before he was born. We can already tell he is a feisty and determined little guy who will give us a run for our money.
I'll still post about food and J.Crew and the Kid and parties and house stuff because real life continues in the midst of unexpected news. To keep things authentic, I will probably now also be writing about parenting kids with chronic illnesses.
I don't think it's an accident that this is on the first floor of our house as you head out the door.
God's sustaining grace in this age is not at all a lesser gift than healing.
Maybe, in fact, it is a greater gift because we have less temptation to forget how weak we are. We are so utterly dependent on God's daily, continual help.
We are pressing in...