Taking myself to the passenger seat.

It's been a rough week, work has been super busy and although little Stellan and his family are just a bunch of strangers I have never met, I feel their pain. Mckmama posted yesterday, "Please, Jesus. Please just let my baby to get better." and I can sympathize in so many ways. As she mentioned in her post today, another family in the PICU was not so lucky last evening having lost their little one. This reminds me of the times when we were in the hospital and I just wanted to scream and cry because my baby was sick and we didn't know what was wrong with her or how to fix it yet. All I could think of is "why me?", "why us?", "what did we do to deserve this?" And just when I thought I could take no more I went to the family lounge, where I overheard a conversation between a family who had flown from faraway places to be in that very hospital to see the best surgeons. I can tell you that they were faced with far larger problems then we had been facing with Alexis. When they moved us out the next morning from the single PICU room to the quad room, they had brought in a newborn who had been medflighted, the mother had just delivered and her baby was in very critical condition, he didn’t even have a name yet and they were prepping him for his first surgery. And as I held my sleeping Sweet Pea, her problems suddenly felt much smaller. Just when I was shouting "God how much more can I take" He opened my eyes and showed me that although I think it's just me going through this, there are far graver things happening around me and I should count my blessings. As I've said before, the experience with Sweet Pea has changed me, in some ways I can't even explain. It allows me to talk about stopping and restarting her heart with ease, it keeps me sane as I study the latest and greatest ablation technology, it keeps me from crumbling when I just want to lay down and cry during her episodes and it reminds me of just how lucky I am…we are…she is.

You know, so many times in our lives we put the blinders on, we walk around as if the world revolves around us. When things go wrong we shake our fists at God and ask WHY! And even those times we don't realize we are doing it, we do. So many times I want to take the wheel and drive this life myself thinking I know what's best...but I don't. It was a warm summer day driving down a highway in Florida when it suddenly hit me, I can't do this by myself, I need help! So many things have gone so "wrong" in my life, my family’s life and we continued to struggle against them. But I was tired, tired of struggling, tired of not knowing the "right" thing to do. Then it hit me, I don't have to know. See when I start to look back I can see the signs, they were there all along I just missed the exit. Just like sitting in the PICU room that morning while my Sweet Pea was sleeping peaceful in my arms and that tiny baby came in far closer to death than we had been 12 hours prior, that was a sign. Every time I've asked God (as if I have the right to ask) "how much more can I possibly take", He answers! He answers with a view into something someone else is battling far worse. And for that I am grateful, I'm grateful that He trusts me, trusts us enough to take care of Sweet Pea. He has great faith in our abilities, He is always guiding us but we have to let him take the wheel so we don’t miss the exits. And as terrifying as that is sometimes it's also liberating. I don’t always have to know the right thing, I just have to listen when He speaks.

So this has been a tough week. A week of hard work and reflection. A week of great prayer for someone I don't even really know. A week of emotion I didn't even know I still carried. It was a reminder that although I think the world revolves around me, it doesn't. I need to be thankful for the days I have to work long hours because it means I have a job. I have to be thankful for the days I'm so tired because the kids kept me up because it means I have kids to keep me up. I have to be thankful to have to know all sorts of medical terminology and to own a stethoscope, and a pulseox, and to know how to perform vagals because they all mean that we were grateful enough to not lose Sweet Pea that pivitol morning that I wasn't sure she would survive. I have to be thankful for having a great God that is guiding me and I HAVE to remember to take myself to the passenger seat. Thank you!