I try really hard to stay upbeat and positive about all of this because I think it’s the best way to live and approach things and it’s also my duty as a husband to be the rock for my family. But for some reason today I’m just having a hard time with the black cloud that’s hanging over the coming months filled with what are supposed to be absolutely happy things from baby showers to decorating Rhett’s room. I’m wishing so hard to fast forward to after the surgeries and everything and that’s just not right. It just doesn’t feel fair that I should have to feel this way, but so goes life.
I’m trying to stay busy and not dwell on it all the time, but there are constant reminders popping up every day. It’s the single most important and character defining event of my life to date. Everywhere you turn there is a post on Facebook of a new baby who is perfectly healthy and for a split instant you are bitter, but then you think about how much of a jerk you feel like for even thinking that for a second. At this point with all of the stories I’ve heard, it’s a miracle that any of these babies make it out alive! It really puts so many things into perspective in this world and makes you grow up fast. Real fast. It makes me so appreciative of everything our parents and our friends have gone through with having a baby. I hope and pray so hard that no one I know will ever have to experience the birth of their child in the way we will have to endure.
I’m obviously ecstatic that I’ll be having a baby in 17 LONG weeks, but still the dark cloud glooms overhead. I feel like I’m mentally and emotionally prepared for the hospital stay, but what do I know? I’m afraid and resolute at the same time. Excited and anxious. Thankful and jealous. Emotions pulling you in different ways daily.
I was telling Amanda about my idea for this blog post and she mentioned how the commercials with little babies that used to make her so happy now fill her with sadness when she sees the mother holding the newborn because she knows that after Rhett is born and she gets to hold him for a few short instants before the doctors and I wheel him away to attach him to an array of cables and sensors and hoses that it will be days and weeks of watching him go through pain and knowing that all we can do is put our hand through the side of his machine and touch him. We can’t hold him close to calm him. I know I will find the strength in those moments, because I must, but I worry about her. Not only will I have to watch my newborn baby lay there in pain or discomfort, but I’ll also have to stand there with nothing to say or do but hold my wife close. I hope and pray in those moments that my strength will somehow be enough for both of them.
I think about Talon having to stay with Amanda’s mom. I don’t think he’ll know the difference but he’ll have to be away from his house for days at a time. Missing out on his toys and us missing out on moments of his youth because his brother is fighting for his life, but he won’t understand that. He’ll just miss us and want to play with Rhett. I hope in those times when he gets to come to the hospital to visit Rhett he won’t see what we see. I hope we are able to have happy family time and he’ll know no different from what Rhett is dealing with compared to when any kid gets a new brother. I hope that we manage to somehow make his visits fun. I know we will because we always have fun.
I know God only puts us in situations he knows we can handle and I believe that to be true. Every time when I’ve felt my lowest I’ve made it through and I know that we’ll make it through this.
Yet, the black cloud still looms and hides the sunshine that I know will come eventually. As the rain falls I’ll hold the umbrella high and try to protect my family. The rain will fall all around us, but I know at the end of it all the sun will shine again and everything the rained touched will grow and be bigger and stronger than before it came. The sunshine is coming, but we have a long way to walk under that umbrella, but we’ll be together and we’ll make it through.
We have an amazing support system around us and the love we’ve received thus far fills me with so much hope. We are getting by just fine for now, but in the months ahead we’ll need you most of all then. Thank you for your prayers and well wishes. We cherish every single one of them and every comment or message that you send.
That came out a lot sadder than I wanted it to, but I guess that’s what happens when you pour your heart out! We WILL be okay and we can’t wait to show Rhett of to the world. Miracles are real and I am reminded of that every time I feel his little foot kick my hand as I fall asleep.
We love you all so much!
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