Sunday, February 24, 2008

It must be the time of year.

The other day, as we were driving back from Peoria, Jim and I both had such a strong reaction to driving by St. Francis. The sky looks the same, the weather is similar, and it just feels so familiar. It feels like we should still be in the NICU.

I've been feeling a lot of . . .well, I suppose that anger is the right word. Lately, I have heard so many people talking about the miracles God has performed, how He saved their loved ones from the brink of death, how He protected them and wouldn't let them fall. I don't begrudge these people their miracles. I really don't. I am very happy when people's health is restored, or they are saved from a tragic accident, or whatever the case might be. It's just that I wish I could have had my miracle too.

Yes, my sons were both miracles. But if it's a question of prayer, which people claim it is whenever things go their way, then Sawyer was prayed for as much as anyone else has ever been. Why didn't God save him?? Why wasn't he pulled back from the brink of death? He was a baby, pure, simple, a clean slate, who never had a chance to live. Why not perform a miracle on him? And if God saves people based on the prayers offered, which people tell me He does, then does he allow someone to die if no one says a prayer? What if only one person prays, or two? How many is enough?

I had to deliver one son knowing that no such miracle could be. There was nothing the doctors could do. I had to accept that, even though I still prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed that God would save him. I asked God to let him live even if it meant that I would die, and I really meant it. I would have given my life for both of my sons.

So after that tragedy, which feels like a nightmare that I am only now waking from, I am given another son, another chance, and still . . .he was taken from me. People always say that God has a plan, that the days of our lives are numbered . . .yet when someone survives a potentially fatal accident, they say that God saved him. How does God decide who to save? Why wasn't my son one of the chosen ones?

I'll never understand any of it. All I know is that my heart is still aching every day, but added to it is this raw anger. The more I hear of other people's miracles, the more angry I become. I know jealousy is wrong, but how could I not be jealous? They got their miracle. Why didn't my son get his?

Friday, February 08, 2008

Since I rarely write here anymore, I wonder if anyone even checks it or reads it. Either way, it's nice to occassionally have a place to express my feelings.

I had the strongest feeling of deja vu tonight that I think I've ever had in my life. I suddenly had the feeling that it was time to call the hospital and check up on Sawyer, then get ready and go to see him. It is impossible to describe the magnitude of how I was feeling. I genuinely found myself living in that moment. I could feel exactly how it felt then . . .how I felt physically, how life felt, how the hospital felt and smelled, how the pumping room felt and smelled, how my little boy looked when I sat next to him, how he held my hand . . .it hit me so hard in about 30 seconds, and I could barely breathe. It feels like another lifetime.

I never want to forget how it felt to be his mom. I was so lucky. I had nothing else in the world to worry about, aside from being Sawyer's mom. I didn't have work or church or any expectations from the rest of the world. In the daily hustle and bustle, it's easy to forget how amazing those 11 days were. It's easy to forget how happy and hopeful we were, and how incredible his little life was. I need to hold so tightly to those feelings and never let them go.

Thanks to all who have been writing, checking up on me, and telling me they miss hearing from me. We just got a new computer. Our old one got to the point where it was barely running, and to check and reply to emails was taking hours. So I'm back, and I have really appreciated everyone's care and concern. We're hanging in there, which I suppose is the best we can do. Love to all.