In all of the stress and struggle since Corrigan’s diagnosis I will admit to wondering “why.” Especially in the beginning.
A few weeks ago, when Corrigan became sick again, I found myself again asking that forbidden question, “why?” Corrigan had been stabilized and the EMT’s had arrived from the Hopkins transport team to take him to John’s Hopkins. I declined riding along because I had to run by the house quickly for things I would need for the upcoming trip/hospital stay. Corrigan was safely strapped to the gurney and I kissed him tearfully as they finalized his paperwork before he could leave. When they said, “It’s time for us to go, mommy” my heart skipped a beat, as it always does, and I watched as they rolled my baby away.
A million things were running through my mind as I raced to the elevators and anxiously tapped my foot as a fellow passanger tried to make small talk. When the doors opened I rushed to my car in the garage and tore out of the area pretty quickly. A short trip down the hill and around the corner I was brought to a stop at a traffic light, distractedly talking to my Dad or someone on the cell phone, updating them on what was happening, when I looked up to see…idling at the very same light that I was stopped…the Hopkins ambulance. There I sat stunned, wondering how on Earth my life had become THIS. How was it that I was stopped behind an ambulance and knowing with 100% certainty that my baby, my sweet sweet Corrigan was inside of that box and that this had this become my “normal?”
An hour or so later I was well on my way down the interstate and stumbled upon a radio station that was featuring a Christian speaker. Normally, on trips like these when my anxiety is beyond “peaked” I rely on the drone of loud music to distract me from my thoughts…but this guy was funny…he made a few jokes that had me chuckling despite my worry and then he began his sermon. He began by saying, “We all know where to go when someone we love is very sick or injured….we race them to the hospital and reply on the doctor’s to know what to do…but in a REAL emergency…do you know how to get to God?”
and again…I was humbled that God had taken the time to show me, to share with me words I needed to hear when I needed to hear them. How much more appropriate could the sermon start have begun than to use words that were EXACTLY what I was going through…speaking of emergency’s and sick loved ones…and then speaking of the 911 to God.
I know the way to God…I speak to Him a dozen or more times a day…but when I am the most anxious…the most upset…I often forget to settle down and speak to Him right then. . Now. I get caught up in the things that need to be done immediately….grabbing stuff from home for myself and Corrigan, arranging care for Connor, getting cash and filling up the gas tank…and before I know it hours have passed before I find the quiet time to sit with God and talk. In times of need…God is waiting for us…in times of need He knows that we need Him more than ever…and His patience is never ending.
Rather than spending the nearly three hours driving time talking to friends and family on the cell while driving…I spent time with the radio turned off, the cell phone on “vibrate” and I spoke to God. I know that He heard me, He always does…and my anxiety went away. There was no traffic on the trip, no issues with parking when I got to the hospital…nothing at all got in my way…and when I got to the ER Corrigan was in a playpen, in the middle of the nursing station, wooing all of the nurses with his laughs and smiles. It was all under control.
As an aside…just days before Corrigan had last fell citru-sick…I had stumbled upon a blog written by a mother whose beautiful son had a Urea Cycle Disorder similar to Corrigan. I am not the kind of person that is often brave enough to reach out to total strangers but I felt compelled, after reading their family story, to contact Amy out of the blue. She was so gracious and sweet and immediately replied. I did not have many days, maybe two, to “talk” with her through email before Corrigan fell suddenly sick again…but I knew that God had helped me to find her because just a few days into Corrigan’s hospitalization we were faced with the decision whether to have the procedure to install the medi-port.
I listened to the doctors and their advice, I had heard the nurses complain for months at how hard it was to find a vein in his little body and had stepped back in shame when someone, called from the emergency room after others had failed to get a vein, stood over my baby and said, angrily to me, “Why does this baby NOT have a port?” I called Mark…we talked for a long time…but I kept thinking that I knew someone that could help me decide..someone that had lived through EXACTLY the things we were going through…and I had only met her days earlier.
I emailed Amy…a quick plea for information about what was happening…and, bless her heart, she emailed me a very long and very detailed explanation as to how the procedure had helped her Mitch…her words of comfort…her valuable first-hand knowledge…all given to me EXACTLY when I needed it simply because God KNEW I would need it…and took me to her, just days earlier.
I have no idea where this journey is going to take us. I still spend many evenings quietly fearful and away from God. I am working mightily on being the person that worries nil over these things ( Mark ) because of their complete and utter faith in God. I will talk to God while doing chores and give Him my children with full intention…with a pure heart…meaning it fully…and then grasping onto my baby and having less faith when the times are hardest. It is easy to hand over our children when things are good…and not so easy when times are bad…but I am getting there. Over and over God has shown me His love…He has shown me that He is there at every turn.
…and I am learning that “life” isn’t taking me anywhere…God is.