these days were written
I used to be able to read back through this blog and actually have hints of what had been going on in my life, and I miss that. It may be possible that I’m keeping it to myself lately because I would rather some things not be a part of my story. Oh, but a few days I pulled into the driveway in my minivan with a trunk full of groceries, and the big boys were playing, one with his shirt off and another with a bebe gun. Those savages cheered when I got home, and another ran to me, the one who was puking just two days before, and he gave me the slobbery-est kiss and said “you’re the best mama in the world.”
This is my story. It’s the story I want, and I’m figuring some things out as I tell it back to myself.
I counted back the calendar days since Titus didn’t weigh what he does now, and it’s been over 8 weeks, now almost 9. The buddy hasn’t been growing. Now we’re suspicious of cystic fibrosis again, even though his sweat test was negative and we have no known history of CF in either of our families. We’re just ready to know something, weary with it.
My dear friend is his pediatrician, and I texted her to tell her how I had counted it out. She responded that she was in a meeting, but next thing I knew, she was knocking on my door. She sat on my couch. She’s working through it with me. It’s such a glory. His little immune system could turn out to be such a show, so she encouraged me to stay strong in keeping him close to home. We can’t chance church or Mother’s Day Out or play-dates with kids who have sniffles. How long have I taken so much for granted?
Seth and I take turns going places, and missing community group is the hardest thing. I miss worshipping with my husband, and the truth is that I miss worshipping at all. I’ve found myself in what I call “the dark place.” If I attend a service or hang out with a friend or buy groceries, I’ve found that I’ll have to sleep it off for a few days. I can’t seem to fully accomplish normal things like keep dishes clean or laundry folded and put away. I can’t get my hours and energy spent to add up to how little I’ve done.
Guilt is like a fog, sneaky like a cat. If once as a child you made it your friend, made it your habit to keep its company, then it’s hard to realize that it’s curled up in your lap, blocking vision, hard to know you’ve been petting at it.
The day after my girlfriend came over to give us some direction with Titus, I woke up so sad, and then as life does, the day sped off into scenarios I couldn’t have written. Ian woke with the worst tummy bug, and I was trying to work some crazy lysol magic to keep the germs away from Titus. Seth agreed to come home during the day so I could keep an appointment I had made with the dermatologist.
He was making me go because I have been itching like fire all over my body for months. I thought maybe it was stress or the doc would give me some cream or offer the evil prednisone, but instead he made the concerned face and explained that usually itching without previous rash points to systemic disease, and then he listed several of the diseases and sent me to the lab for blood work. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
My mind had already wandered to how I could take care of my boys while enduring chemotherapy or Gerson therapy, so imagine how wonderful it was for me to hear that I’m itching like crazy cakes and have zero energy simply because my iron is low. All I have to do is take iron, drink the blackstrap and eat some meat. Boy Howdy!
Immediately the cat jumped down and ran away. I hate that thing and how it whispers to me that I’m useless and good-for-nothing.
What a strangle-hold guilt puts on worship and prayer. I write it here so maybe you’ll wake up to the pets you’re keeping.
Whatever is happening with Titus, it’s not what I thought it would be. I thought I would either lose him or that he would be healed. The thing I didn’t expect and certainly didn’t desire was the long-haul. If he has cystic fibrosis, then that is why he isn’t growing. There’ll be no going on to another hospital to see if we can make him better. Our appointment is today at 3:00 PM central for his 2nd sweat test.
If it’s positive, we’ll go home and start another life, and if it’s negative we’ll soon be headed to some clinic in Cincinnati or to Mayo Clinic. Please pray that we can feel confident with the sweat test today, one way or the other.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
There’s a freedom I hear about that I just don’t always recognize in my life. I long to be free so much that maybe I’ve built a habit of feigning it. Would you like to join me in exploring this path to true freedom? Follow along on Facebook or subscribe to these posts by email or in a reader. Have you been keeping pets like guilt or shame that you need to release so you can go to God in prayer?