We're now just a few weeks away from another check-up for Miss Kemarah. We know that this next one will include another echo which gives me butterflies for weeks in advance. Seeing my baby girl who looks so happy and healthy on the outside, and then going in to the appointment and hearing how things are so messed up on the inside is always difficult. I find myself praying, hoping, each time that they are going to look at that Big, Happy Heart and tell me that it isn't looking so bad anymore--that things are better.
One of the most difficult things for me has always been waiting. Waiting for anything, big or small, has never been a favorite activity of mine. So throughout this last year, God has definitely been working on me. I have come to understand, more than ever, that I am not in control. Things in life will run their own course, although sometimes I may be foolish enough to think I have some kind of influence over them. The loss of control, or the understanding that I never had it to begin with, invoked a new weakness in my life--FEAR! The thought of possibly losing a child, and dealing with a sick child has been my biggest fear since I realized I was going to be a parent. The mere thought of something happening to one of my children simply made me cringe, and I would say that little silent prayer, "God, please don't ever let that happen to me." Then one day, it did happen. After three days in the pediatric ICU, I never shed a tear, until the doctors told us we could go home. The thought of taking my child home, away from the doctors, the nurses, the machines that were constantly there to reassure me, was completely overwhelming to me. Kenya left to get lunch, and I was left there, just me and my sleeping little girl, and I began to cry. I cried uncontrollably. I was afraid.
I lived with that fear for months after wards. How would I be able to cope if she was torn away from me? Would I be able to tell if she was getting sicker? Would I be able to do all the things she would need for me to do? I was so afraid of all of it. During those months, God began to work on my heart. I was reminded that I was not given a spirit of fear. I was reminded that He knew the very number of hairs on my baby girl's head. That while she was forming in the womb He knew her and her days were already numbered. I began to realize that there was nothing my fear could accomplish, but I had to make a CHOICE not to let it control me. I struggle everyday with my FEARS of my daughter's life, and most days I overcome it. Sometimes I don't, but I know in it all that my job as her mother is to love her--recklessly, without limit, uncontrollably. And in giving my best to her, I am giving myself more than I ever could have imagined. I have to trade the fear of what I could lose, for what I know I have. And right now, I have a beautiful, bright, amazing 3 year old little girl. I cherish everyday with her and know that through all my doubt, my fear, my uncertainty, He is not shaken, and He is in control. So I wait in peace, knowing He is in control.
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