Hanging In There

I haven't had much lately to write about. Well, it hasn't been possible to write about a lot of it. But suffice it to say, we are hanging in there.

For a week, I had the most beautiful respite from pain, and I walked and shopped and lived like an almost ordinary woman. But this morning, that respite came to an end, and now I am once again moving with slowness and pushing forward with courage. I'm disappointed that the pain would come today, of all days, for Grace is coming to visit for a week and she arrives tonight. I have much to do to prepare for her arrival, but instead I'm resting on the couch while the pain meds kick in, and praying my little guy doesn't need to nurse until the highest concentration of the drug in my milk passes. But despite my disappointment, I'm not growing bitter. The credit for that is not owed to me. It's really a God thing, a faith thing, if you will.

One thing I'd like to learn through all of this is how to keep close to Jesus even when my pain levels are good and my mind and body can focus on just enjoying life. I think it is too easy to get through the easy times of life without thinking about the One who enables it all in the first place. It's when we are in pain, when our hearts or bodies are in agony, that we remember to cry out for help. But if God really wants to be personal with us, if He really wants to have a friendship of sorts with us, then surely He wants us to hang out with Him on the good days as well as the bad. It's hard to explain, but it's a lesson I'd like to really and truly grasp.

One thing I am learning in this is how much the human spirit grows during adversity, and how much beauty can come out of it when the human spirit determines to act with courage and grace instead of with whining and a sense of entitlement. For most of my life, I've actually responded to crises in the latter way. But for the first time, I'm somehow finding my responses mirroring the former way. It's refreshing and exciting, truth be told. But I can't get all prideful about it, because anything good coming out of me right now, really isn't from me. It's really a God thing. If I were left to my own devices, I'd be looking and sounding a lot like Eeyore.

Another thing I'm learning is how to savor the moments of life that are good and enjoyable, and how to treasure even the most mundane of abilities. I like that, for it's actually helping me understand and see others in a more true light. When I see an elderly woman walking through the grocery store, I now can see how it is no simple thing that she is walking on her own. And when I see a new mom, I know what it means for her to be walking around as well. Does that make sense? It's hard to articulate exactly what I mean here. (The pain meds are kicking in after all, so my vocabulary is going the way of clear thinking for the next few hours.)

In other news, Grasshopper too is hanging in there. He has had a bad cold for a week now, and the little guy is coughing and congested in a miserable way. He shared his cold with me last week, but I recovered for the most part by Sunday. He is still struggling though. I believe in large part it's because he is too young to take Oil of Oregano and I am not. I took it a few times each day during the time I was sick, and it seemed to help. But wee babes cannot take such potent stuff, especially because they don't test natural remedies for safety in infants. It sounds crazy, but Oil of Oregano is pretty much the main reason my getting a cold no longer means it will develop into a sinus infection requiring antibiotics. I really do believe in the stuff.

But because Grasshopper has had the cold for eight days now, and because his cough seemed to be moving deeper into his chest, I did take him to our doctor. When I called first thing this morning there were no appointments available, and my only option was to wait for the afternoon when our doctor was serving as the walk-in clinic physician. When I arrived just moments before the afternoon walk-in clinic hours were to begin, there was already a two hour wait to be seen. But when I arrived, there was also a blessing waiting for us.

Our doctor was actually standing there speaking with the receptionist. So I said, "We are here to get in line to see this guy (pointing to our doctor), so Grasshopper can be seen." That is when the receptionist said there would be a minimum of a two hour wait. So I said, "Sure. Can I give you our name to get us in line, and then come back in awhile?" And that's when the heavens opened and angels started singing. Well, not actually. What really happened is that our doctor looked at us with a smile and said, "Why don't you just come on back right now?" And with that, Grasshopper got his lungs checked out and was given the all clear. It's just a cold that he will keep on fighting, but he fortunately doesn't appear to need medicine or other intervention.

So from the time I pulled into the parking lot to the time I pulled out of it, we were there for 15 minutes. What a total blessing, especially on a day such as today. Our family doctor really is a gem, and his heart is full of compassion. He and I may not see eye to eye on the treatment of infant colic/GERD, but I trust him and appreciate him very much. And for a mama with a painful fistula flare up, today I appreciate him even more.

I am going to rest while Grasshopper is still asleep. Perhaps I'll soon be able to put up some recent pictures of the sweet little guy. For now, the one bright side to this flare up is that the specialist will have something to see on Friday if I really do get to have that appointment I've been waiting for these past six weeks. I was beginning to think he would not have much to look at, but if today is any indication, he will have something to occupy his time. I just hope he can fix me soon. I've given up hope that I'll get to climb or take a trip to the ocean for wading this summer, and I've begun to let go of my expectation that I'll have any normalcy this year. But I do hope to have health soon enough, to make up for all the months I am losing because of these crazy childbirth injuries. The one promise I hold onto with full hope and joy is the one where God promises to restore the years the locusts have eaten. If He could do that for countless folks in the Bible, He can do that for a short redhead who wants to get back to a life of climbing, being a wife, and being an energetic mama. I just know He can.