Life Changing Experiences

I debated about sharing my thoughts today. I know by doing so I will be setting myself up for misunderstanding by some.

Yesterday was Joshua's 6th birthday. He and I looked at his photo album together. We talked about how tiny he was, compared his tiny foorprints to his big ol' feet.
The day he was born was so full of joy. Even though I had a long labor and bled heavily afterward, I was so delighted at my perfect little son. Late that night, I was looking through his hospital chart and saw that the nurse was unable to see both red reflexes in his eyes. I figured it was because it can be hard to get a good look in tiny newborn eyes, but decided to ask our doctor about it when he came in the next day.

Little did I realize how dramatically different my life was about to become. Joshua indeed did not have a red reflex in his right eye, but our family doctor did not know why. We had an appointment set up with a pediatric ophthalmologist, next door to the hospital. When we were discharged, we were to go directly to Joshua's appointment.

I will never forget the day they pediatric ophthalmologist diagnosed Josh with PHPV. I sat and cried, the tears would not stop. I was not crying because my little son was not perfect. (He is perfect.) I was crying because of the suffering he would need to indure, the uncertainty of his prognosis.
I still cry when anything changes with Josh's condition. There is never any guarrantee that all will be well with Josh. His surgeries were not a cure, or permanent fix.

Two years and one day after Josh was born, we gave birth to Christopher. When they placed Christopher on my tummy, I saw in his mouth his cleft palate. I was stunned into silence. Two precious babies in a row with surgical needs.
The NICU doctor was called in to see Christopher. He said he would like to draw blood for chromosomal testing. I remember weeping and shaking all over, so much so that the NICU doctor asked my husband if I was ok. I felt like I was a bystander in the room, they weren't talking about me and my baby. When I asked the doctor if he meant testing for Down syndrome, he said "yes', but he did not think Christopher had it, though. He wanted to do the test just because of my age and the cleft palate.

The test took four days. In this time, we went home from the hospital, only to be admitted to the pediatric unit due to Christopher developing jaundice. My husband went home for the evening, and I was alone with my new baby when our doctor came in to tell me the results of the testing.

I know some folks would say I was selfish, or not truly prolife, or whatever else, because I wept when I was told my son has Down syndrome. I was heartbroken that my little son would suffer. He would suffer not only because he needed surgery to repair his cleft palate, but because of how others percieve people with disabilities. I was crying because I would have to go home and tell my other children they would need to see another baby brother suffer. They would watch him struggle to do the things that come natural and easy for other babies.

I have not stayed in the mourning phase. I have moved on. I have experienced much joy becuase of my precious children. But my life will never be the same. But different can be good. I have learned so much, met many wonderful people, and discovered a lot of areas in my life that I needed to turn over to the Lord.
I am not the same person I was six years ago, or even four years ago. I continue to be a work in progress, clay in the Master Potter's hands. Sometimes, when he squeezes it does not feel to good. Sometimes he sees bits and pieces that need to be removed to make the finished product more lovely and functionable. But I will never be the same.