Lately, I would give anything to just be able to sleep. I suppose this is the point at which every mother would say, "well, get used to not sleeping...because once the baby gets here..." I get that. I hear that a lot. I'm on modified bed rest right now, so I get all day to lay around and rest. I am not craving sleep because I want the rest, I am craving sleep because I want the peace.
At night, my mind is not at peace. My husband, bless him, can fall asleep anytime and anywhere, within about...oh...30 seconds. So at night, he is always asleep immediately, and I lay awake. In fact, I stopped going to bed when he does, in hopes that staying up until midnight or later will make me so tired, there is no way that I could not fall asleep. Yet it doesn't help, and there I lay, awake with my thoughts.
I know its my own fault, the worrying and all. A friend of mine and I had a conversation earlier tonight about how people always say, "just give your worries to God". We hear it all the time, and I suppose we try, but we don't really know how that all really works. So, we continue to worry.
Tonight, as I was lying awake, about to nudge my husband for the 19th time so he would quit snoring, I decided to grab my phone and browse through Facebook to pass the time. I came across a page called, "prayers for Brody". It was a Facebook group page created to update people on a very sick little boy with Down syndrome. I didn't get the full story, but it sounds like he had been having seizures and it sounds like he had been on the vent for a while now. He looked to about a year or so old maybe. Well, Brody passed away this morning. And after reading through the posts written by his mother, dripping in anguish, I was a complete puddle. I looked at the pictures she posted of him over the past week...breathing tubes, feeding tubes, IV lines, medical tape...he was covered in it. All you could see clearly were his sweet eyes...those sweet, almond-shaped eyes. That is when it hit me. Sooner than we think, our little Fiona is going to be lying in a hospital bed, with all sorts of tapes and tubes and lines. She is due to have open heart surgery within the first 6 months of her life. And I guess, although I have always felt worry for this, I have never really been hit by the total reality that she might not make it through it. The doctors, of course, have been overall positive and confident that the procedure is no big deal...but it is. They will stop her little heart and open her up. They will try to surgically repair her heart and then try to get it started beating again. But what if it doesn't start beating again. What if there are more complications, unforeseen by prenatal echocardiograms? What if some other medical issue shows up that we do not expect and she doesn't survive that. I have never, before tonight, really sat and thought about the prospect of losing my baby girl.
I realize these things are out of my control and what I can control is making sure she is at a place that can provide her the best care possible, but that is no guarantee, is it?
So as I lay awake in bed, my husband and dogs snoring next to me, I am crying my stupid eyes out with worry and stomach-turning fear. I had to get up and out of bed to come sit on the couch and just made the decision to write about it, hoping this would help me get it out and feel better....get closer to feeling some sort of peace so that maybe I can sleep tonight. I guess I am not sure if I will publish this post. It feels pretty personal, but at the same time, I think its important to talk about things that are not sugar-coated. I spend most of my energy trying to stay upbeat and positive about our future, but sometimes, this happens. I feel as though it is selfish to ask God to take away my worry and pain, when really, if anything like that is possible, he shouldn't be wasting his time on me. He should be spending it on babies like Brody and Fiona. I can handle the Down syndrome, but why does she have to be sick too? What did she do to deserve a heart condition, why should she have to endure open heart surgery, she is just a baby, that is not fair! Its hard for me, sometimes, to talk to God and not be angry for what he has allowed to happen to her. But maybe that is not fair to Him either. I don't know which end is up sometimes.
Fiona is a blessing to us, there is no doubt, but I wish I could understand why she was chosen to go through so much. She will accomplish so much in her little life in terms on the impact she will have on everyone in her life, but what is in it for her? She just deserves better.
I guess now that I'm at the end of this post, I feel less sad, as I am no longer in tears. And maybe all I have left to feel is frustration at the injustice committed to my baby. I guess my job now would be to suck it up and go to sleep, because that is what is best for Fiona right now; the best thing I can do for her is rest. Rest and ask for peace, and have a little faith that things will be okay.
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