Opposition

How do I start this pleasantly...

Yesterday I started crying just after lunch and stopped about midnight when I crawled into bed. Today my eyes and face are puffy and my head still hurts. But everything is ok. It all started Thursday when we went to see the eye doc. There was a small dry spot on Jonah's left eye ball. The doc said he needed 2 medications to avoid infection, because if it gets infected, Jonah could lose his eye.

Friday his eye got worse, and yesterday it was even worse. Instead of being clear, the blue of his eye is cloudy and the white of his eye is red. So I called the opthamologist on call and he told me come in. After approximately 2 hours of jumping through proper hoops for insurance purposes, we were in the ER at Primary Children's. Jonah had a fever and his breathing was irregular. The doc told me that she wanted to do blood work, a urinalysis, and a spinal tap to check for serious illness because babies that young shouldn't have fevers. I told them (like they couldn't see it) that he had an eye infection, and his fever was probably due to that. She told me that yes, that was probable, but with an immune system like Jonah's, an eye infection could quickly spread to his blood, or his brain, or his shunt... My sweet Jonah that has been so healthy suddenly went from stable to life-threatening illness in 30 seconds.

At that moment, I was holding Jonah and he was asleep with his eyes open. He had some florescent drops put in his eye earlier. His eye looked dry and gritty and cloudy and perfectly still. The same eyes that my other sons had, holding them after they had just passed away. Suddenly death was too real and too close. Looking at Jonah's other crystal clear beautiful blue eye, I could plainly see life in his eye. He was still with me. But I have held my sweet babies after they passed. It was too real. It was too close. And sitting in the ER with the bad news docs sucked the hope right out of me. So I completely fell apart. Why can't those 'falling apart' moments happen in private? I am not a crier. I don't cry. In fact I only remember 2 other times in my life crying like yesterday.

With my other boys, I have known when it was their time. In my moment of fear, I couldn't feel anything. So I let them take Jonah's blood and put in an IV. The opthamolgist scraped Jonah's eye-yes scraped his eye- for cultures. His blood counts came back normal-ish. I decided he'd had enough for the day. We battled the pharmacy and finally rolled home about 10 pm. Still crying.

A few weeks ago Rob and I were saying night prayers. Rob was expressing gratitude for the time we have enjoyed with Jonah and how well he is doing. Then he said, "we know that Jonah has other work to do". And the Spirit told me it was true. Jonah has other work to do. His mom doesn't very much like hearing about it. But it gave me a new perspective that I hadn't considered before. He is a blessing to us, loving us and allowing us to love him, until his precious time is up. His body is a blessing. And death, as horrible and lonely as it is, is also beautiful and merciful. It will surely come. So sometimes its ok to take off the brave face and cry. Preferably in private.

My day wouldn't be complete if I didn't share the tender mercy. As Jonah's and my day began, at about 1130am, we waited at the Moran Eye Center to see a doc. I met an older man who was a little rugged and rough who brought his friend in because he got a piece of metal in his eye while welding. We made small talk, he kept me smiling. When it was Jonah's turn to go back, the man asked me if my insurance would cover Jonah's appt. I was in the wrong building for my insurance, so I answered that I hoped so. He opened his wallet and gave a $100 bill. Who does that? WHO DOES THAT? I certainly can't dry my tears with a $100 bill, and $100 won't heal my hurt, but someone somewhere knew it would be a rough day and wanted me to feel the love. I am still feeling the love.

I am grateful for the love of a stranger.

I need to remember to be somebody else's stranger.