I have been in a funk today but am feeling much better now. I think it's mostly that Jonah is gushing almost daily (although not today, Praise God!) again. I get so discouraged when I think he is over all that or we've found the solution, and then he starts again. It's so frustrating.
But what really gets me is that with each gush, I picture his esophagus blistering. I told you (or maybe I tweeted it) that we've been having to fight a little more to get him to eat this week. Today I think I know why. When he spits up, it's tinged a dark pink/brown. He hasn't eaten any solids today, so I know it's blood. Something's going on down there. I'm praying and hoping that it's just some isolated blistering and that it has drained now for good. But I worry. It's so hard to trust God sometimes. I'm always waiting for the bottom to drop out. I think I feel guilty that Jonah is doing so well. Leah's gone. Tripp is struggling so much. It doesn't make any sense.
As far as what we have been/are going through I'm less of the mentality, "Why Gabe? Why Jonah? Why us?" and more of the mentality, "Why not Jonah? Why not us?" This has nothing to do with how strong I am or my positive (ha!) perspective or anything. (You guys seriously have me all wrong, by the way.) I guess I just feel like I am owed nothing. I kind of think of those words, "I'm just a poor, wayfaring stranger," just trying to survive until I get to go home. And although I LOVE my life with Matt and Jonah, honestly there are many nights I go to bed ready to go home (wishing Matt and Jonah could just go ahead and come on with me, of course). I miss Gabe, and I want to see him.
But we are here for a reason. I can't remember if I've shared this before or not, but from the time I found out I was pregnant with Jonah until the day he was born, Matt and I prayed on our knees for him every night. My recurring prayer was "Let him live, God." Over and over and over again I would pray, "Let him live so he can praise you, Father. Let him live so he can tell his story." I dreamed of him being a missionary (whatever that might mean). And all of these prayers were before we ever even knew there was anything wrong. We had been told that Gabe dying was a fluke; inexplicable; "just one of those things." There was no reason to think that Jonah would be born "unhealthy." But then he came, and it was so bad. And I was sobbing, and Matt had to walk out in that waiting room, face our families, those hopeful eyes and share bad news... again. And nothing was like it was supposed to be. I'm considering sharing some of the photos Lauren took of us that day after we knew something was wrong. I was looking through them the other day, and they are heartbreaking - the fear, sadness, desperation in our faces. Why us?
Why NOT us?
God answered my prayers. Jonah is living. Not only living, but thriving. He's beating the odds, eating, growing, resisting infection. By the statistics, he should not be here right now. But God said, "yes." Jonah has a story to tell. We have a story to tell. We're not done praising. It's not time to go yet.
And I'm glad.
I'm so thankful that (for now at least) he's said yes.
I sing this song to Jonah, but I change the word "mother."
I know dark clouds will gather ‘round me
I know my way is rough and steep
But golden fields lie out before me
Where God’s redeemed shall ever sleep
I’m going there to see my brother
He said he'd meet me when I come
I'm only going over Jordan;
I'm only going over home.
Yep, we're surely going...
But not quite yet.
