A Momma's Cry-- "Why?"

Sometimes I think that I’m going to wake up and all of this is a dream.  I think that really, truly, somehow Ben is perfectly healthy, his tummy has no gaping hole, all of his insides are really on the inside, there will be no NICU stay, and I will be able to hold my own baby right away and not have to wait several months. That’s the worst part of all of this, and I know it’s selfish… But I just want to hold my baby.  Sometimes I just think that this isn’t really real. But it is.

I was driving down a busy road in the rain, running late of course, to my most recent ultrasound. I was burning up, sweating, yet feeling cold. I was swollen from head to toe, but also felt a little empty, maybe it was just nervousness. I just dreaded it. All I could do was ask why?

The “why’s?” got me… Why him? Why my son? Why so many other babies perfectly healthy and my baby isn’t? Why me? Why my family? My little family has so much on our plate already right now, why is this happening? WHY?

The “why’s” lasted for a few days.  It’s human to feel this way, I know it is. If you were in this position, you’d have these days too. I think its okay, too, to have these moments. Let’s be real, I’m tired. I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally tired.

At work I give my all to my kids every minute of the school day, I busy myself during my few “breaks” so that my mind doesn’t wander, I respond to work emails until I go to bed. When I get home from work I busy myself with dishes, laundry, cooking dinner, walking Heidi, cleaning. When my husband comes home he consumes my thoughts and actions, he’s my world. I have found ways to busy myself. The laundry doesn’t have to be done, I probably wasted more water running that load of dishes that wasn’t even full, and let’s be real, I’m not making dinner from scratch, but man can I stretch that cooking time to last a while!

Then, I just need to sit. If you’re following our journey, you know that a couple of weekends ago, my husband and I spent the weekend working on the nursery. Ben put together the glider so that I can have a place other than the floor to spend my time in that room. This simple, soft, gray glider has become my place of solace, my place of rest, my place of tears, prayers, and gut wrenching sobs.  I’ve been spending a lot of time in that place.

So as I was in this place I was dealing with the “why’s” I was going through. I’ve said before I that I know why know why—I was in this situation because we were made for this, that we are a family of miracles… And all of this is true.  I know this is a part of His plan, His miracle story.  But maybe it’s more than that.

Recently a certain Promise has made its way into my heart, my head, and my hands over and over. It’s this beautiful promise: "Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) I definitely fit the category of weary and burdened, and I’ve found comfort in that last part: “I will give you rest.”

But the first part of that sincere Promise is even more important to me lately: “Come to Me…” Lately I’ve seen it as a beckoning, a cry from Him to come to Him. He wants me to be close, He wants me to depend on Him, to trust Him. Maybe that’s what this is all about… A beckoning whispered to me in the darkness of night when I’m sitting in my place in my son’s room. A beckoning shouted at me as I’m lying on that uncomfortable medical table with my swollen stomach exposed, a beckoning cried to me in every small moment of my day. Maybe, just maybe, that’s what this is all about. An opportunity to draw closer to Him. An opportunity to come back home. An opportunity for my heart and soul to be filled with what truly matters.

As I have said before: of course I will have these days that I’ll be drained in every way. I’ll have the human days where I ask “why?” I’ll have the days where I’m just not really as strong as the face that I present. But it’s all about that beautiful beckoning, the call to my heart. The simple request for me to come. 

And I am answering that beautiful request with every single ounce of my tired and weary heart.