A Vulnerable Look Through The Window Of My Heart...

It was about 9:00pm last evening when my body made an unconscious decision to get up from my perched position in Little Bug’s room, walk two steps to his bed and climb up on the platform they have provided to rise me just high enough above his machines and tubes as to not disturb him. Once there, I smothered him with silent kisses and whispered “I love you’s” in his ears before exiting his room for the evening. With a certain numbness and hollow feeling, I walked 53 steps to the elevator, pushed #5 and waited to exit. I turned the corner into the sleeping area and with robotic motion entered the 5 digit code to open the door to my sleeping closet. When I arrived, it was quiet and cold and empty, nothing a sleeping room should be. I have always been fond of falling asleep in a warm & cozy room with signs of life everywhere. Where are the signs of life in this 8 x 8 room? I know the obvious answer is ME! I am living and breathing, but why do I feel so void of life? Maybe because life, as I had planned it and hoped it would be is not within my reach.

I fumbled around in my bag to find one of Connor’s sleepers, and I curled up in my single bed grasping onto the smells of my precious baby boy. I had myself a good ‘ol cry and then found myself restless with the thoughts and truths that you are about to read. I often find myself in the darkness with thoughts that I just cannot ignore, but tonight the thoughts are rushing in with a vengeance. The words are swirling around in my mind like a million $10 bills in a wind tunnel, out of control and going no where. Suddenly, the words form sentences and the sentences form paragraphs and before I knew it this post was created. For months now I have used this blog to chronicle Connor’s progress, but I have also used it for an outlet for my feelings and honesty. This is yet another view into the vulnerabilities of my heart.

I have always been the “go to girl”. You know, the one who swoops in when the chips are down and brings a word of encouragement or lends a hand of support when others are in need. Anyone who knows me well, knows that this is true. It is second nature. It is who I was born to be. It isn’t hard. It takes no effort. It really doesn’t even take a second thought. To be quite honest, it has brought me some of the greatest joys of my life. I find contentment in being able to walk alongside a soul that is hurting or confused and I love to watch as transformations begin to take place. It is wonderful to know that God has given me a beautiful gift of stepping into the lives of others and helping to provide what they need at the very time they need it.

As of late, I find myself in a very different role. I don’t swoop in for others because I am in need myself. I haven’t given in the ways that I love to give for almost a year now and I feel displaced. I feel empty from being in need, but I also feel empty for not helping someone else in need. What a quandary!! I have realized that this wasteland that I am in is unfamiliar, unsettling, unproductive and unwanted. I never asked to be here. I never wanted to be here. But here I am, in need. I don’t quickly answer my family and sweet friends with a “Yes, come on down, we’d love to see you!” because I wonder if it will just be a depressing visit filled with more questions and more uncertainty that will frustrate everyone. This isn’t me. This isn’t the woman I am on the inside. I have come to the conclusion that I don’t “do” needy well. I am not accustomed to asking for help or support or even love. How do I make the switch? How do I transition from being strong to asking for others to help hold me up?

Many of you may wonder why it is that when you have asked to help us out why we don’t have too much to say. I know for myself that I am confused with the facts of being needy and needing support. It is the hardest thing for me to admit that I cannot do this on my own or that Randy and I cannot band together with our faith in God and let that be enough….It is not enough!!! We are definitely at a place where we need others, but it is so hard to receive. And it is even harder to ask for it!! It is humbling and it is overwhelming.

Is it pride that creeps in and makes me wonder if the blogs that I post will simply make people feel sorry for us or if they will really understand our suffering? When we comment about Little Bug’s progress, or lack there of, and ask for prayers, do you realize how that makes us feel as parents? We feel inadequate to face the struggles that Connor endures and we wonder how long we will have to continually ask for the army to rise up around us. When do we get to go back to being in the army? Could it be pride, once again, that kicks in when one more person wants to come and meet our precious son and I realize I don’t have the commodity of putting a cute little outfit on him to make him look as cute as possible for this new introduction? We have to introduce our son with a tube down his throat, naked as he came into this world, with every scar exposed for all to see. There is no “prettying” him up for our beloved visitors. Is it also pride which makes it so hard to admit how far behind we are in this world of development that Connor has yet to discover? How we wish we could talk about the wonderful milestones that we are reaching as a family and how we are watching Little Bug explore the world with wonder, but this is not a conversation that is ours to have at the moment. We do know it will come, but when? When will it come?

Oh Lord, break me of this pride if this is what it is. Repair what is broken inside of me that doesn’t allow me to receive with grace what so many want to provide for me, for us, for our little family. This is not an easy journey, Lord. It seems to be lasting much longer than we ever planned and it seems to be robbing us of so much. I feel like it should be easier for me to just make a decision to “choose joy”, but I find it most difficult to choose anything because our road seems to be so predetermined and so many choices have been taken away from us. Give me clarity dear Lord to trust you to redirect our path and bring our joy back into view. Would you quietly enter this displaced heart and fill it with your sweet spirit of conformity and love. Is it possible that you could replace this wandering and wondering heart with a sense of your shepherding and your guiding hand? I know that you know the way through the wilderness and I know that you will lead us to the promised land. I know it in my heart, by my faith that I have in your word, but my mind is beginning to doubt your plan. Take my doubt and wipe it clean. Take my questions and provide your clam and your peace for the answers that I must hear. You are a GOOD God and I do trust you. Walk with me in this lonely desert place. Breathe new life into my soul and allow your word to be proclaimed once again within my heart. Amen.

These thoughts, whether random or contrived or confused, are the still echoes of my soul. By very nature of their loud knocking on my minds door last night, they were words that were begging to find a place outside of me to be examined and to be laid for all to see.

Lovebug Hugs,
Lori

PS ~ Connor’s condition remains the same today. He is heavily sedated and sleeping fairly well. They stopped his antibiotics today as the surgeon feels that he isn’t at risk for infections from the actual surgery any longer. He is still fairly puffy and they are tweaking his medicines to see if they can get more fluid off of him. Other than that, the plan remains the same to keep the breathing tube in until Sunday.