(not just a) MommyBlog (dot com)

… it pours.   I haven’t written about this before, but my Dad was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer.   He will be undergoing surgery on Monday to remove the cancer, and the prognosis is excellent for a full recovery.   Incidentally, Casey is also undergoing surgery on Monday,  to correct a minor heart condition.     My sister is going to come stay at my house for a day or two so that I can be with Casey.     I thought that all of this was just par for the proverbial course, considering the year we’ve been having, but I think today it’s finally hit me that these past five months have been really hard.

I started thinking that the statistical chances of all that has happened to us actually happening to a single family, and  it  has got to be slim, to say the least:     I’ve had two miscarriages, along with the D&Cs that went with them, and gall bladder removal surgery, including a bout with ripped abdominal stitches and not being able to lift Kenny for two weeks.   Casey has had numerous trips to the hospital and accompanying cardiologists, and now has his heart surgery scheduled for Monday.   Kenny spent four days in the hospital with a staph infection, and has been battling a wicked allergy to mosquito bites.   And Dudley has been hospitalized twice for various stomach issues.   And did I mention that due to the abnormally high salt content in the river we live on (that feeds into the Chesapeake Bay), we’ve been waking up to leagues of dead fish on our ramp and pier?   And that our entire property smells like a condemned sushi bar?   And that Casey had to free all the crabs in the traps because the water is so contaminated?   And that Dudley loves to roll in the carcasses, then ram through his dog door and jump on my bed???

I am not re-issuing my laundry list of woes to garner sympathy, or dally in sensationalism or egotistical martyrdom.   We are not melodramatic people!   I do, though, want to share some thoughts I am having on all this.   There has got to be a reason for all this.   There has got to be a real, relevant reason that we have gone through all that we have.  

I am in a small group Bible study that is going through the book of Daniel right now.   We persevere through the clatter and commotion of our collective gaggle of toddlers and babies, and it’s one of my favorite times of the week.   Anyway, we have recently been discussing the idea of being refined through the fire, and I am convinced that this is exactly what is happening to my little family.   I think that all of this has been allowed, by God, to touch us, because He has something in store for us in His big picture.   I believe that there is something, some experience or position or situation, down the road that He needs us to be ready for, and that He is refining our faith so that we will be able to succeed in whatever that might be.     I don’t know if it’s next month or next year, or many years down the road, but I do know that there is a reason that we are being allowed to go through all this, and we have to persevere and be strong.

In other news, I had my OB appointment today to go over the pathology report from my miscarriage on July 4th.   In the end, there is no report.   The samples they were able to obtain were too far deteriorated to determine anything, and there is nothing to be said.   I have to admit, I was expecting this, but I was not expecting the flood of emotion that hit me when I walked into the waiting room and saw three women with huge bellies there for their check-ups.   As I watched them joke with each other about due dates and swollen ankles, I thought I was going to literally choke on the tears in my throat.   My stomach twisted and it was all I could do to walk up when my name was called.   I was so jealous I wanted to scream.   Today I would be seven months with my second child, if he had made it.   Or  I would be twelve weeks today with the twins, if they hadn’t been lost so early.   I would be laughing and joking about having to pee and craving chili-dogs.   One thing I know for sure, I will never take being pregnant for granted again.

But I do not want to end on a teary note, as I am filled with joy even in all this stress and sorrow.   I have a wonderful, brilliant and handsome husband, and a hysterically funny and precious little boy.   We have a beautiful home (fishy-smelling and all), a wacky dog (who thankfully at least doesn’t bring the dead fish into the house), all that we need materially and then some, and lots of laughter and love to go around.   I still wouldn’t trade a moment of this life for any other.   I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be at this moment in time, and  I am so grateful for that.