Thursday, April 26, 2012


I had a couple of angry days last week.  
Angry about a few things.  Angry with the Man upstairs.
It doesn't happen very often, but it happens.
Just plain mad....mad that my babies were sick, mad that they came so early, mad that they cough and wheeze, mad that they have suffered so much.  Mad that we can't catch a break.  Mad that we can't get a good night's sleep.
Hating every nebulizer treatment we  do and every medicine I give.
Wishing life was a bit different, a bit more normal.  Wishing we could go outside.  Wishing I didn't have to stress about germs, RSV and re-hospitalization.
Questioning why? Why is this happening?  What have I done? My babies are innocent.
Anger then followed by guilt.  Yes, I three babies are miracles.  
I have learned of so many other families dealing with so much more.  How can I be so weak?
Am I being ungrateful?
And then, while I was catching up on some blog reading... I found this poem:


Desperately, helplessly, longingly I cried.
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.
I plead and I wept for a clue to my fate,
The Master gently said, "Child you must wait!"

"Wait?  You say, wait!" my indignant reply,
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is Your hand shortened?  Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked and am claiming Your Word."

"My future and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes,' a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign,"

"And, Lord, You promised that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking!  I need a reply!"

Then quickly, softly, I learned of my fate.
Once again my Master replied, "You must wait."
So I slumped in my chair defeated and taut,
And I grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?"

He seemed  then to kneel, and His eyes wept with mine,
And He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun,
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run."

"All you seek I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want - but you wouldn't know ME.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint;
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint."

"You'd not learn to see through the clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there;
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me,
When darkness and silence were all you could see."

"You'd never experience the fullness of love,
As the peace of the Spirit descends like a dove;
You'd know that I give and I save...(for a start),
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of my heart."

"The glow of my comfort late in the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight,
The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked,
Of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST."

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that 'My grace is sufficient for thee.'
Yes, your dreams for your loved ones overnight would come true,
But oh, the loss!  if I lost what I'm doing in you!"

"So be silent, my child, and in time you will see,
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know ME.
And though oft may my answers seem terribly late,

My wisest of answers is still but to WAIT."

Coincidence? I doubt it.
Deep breaths, followed by inner peace once again.
Thank you Sarah for sharing your journey.  Her blog can be found here.

Have I mentioned that Sofia's wheeze is gone? GONE!! She has not been this quiet since before Christmas!! I have seen major progress in her development.  She is rolling a LOT.  She is determined to get what she wants.  She is opening her mouth for solids.  She is drinking her bottle without coughing, without taking breaks, without gagging.  She is talking a lot.  She is loud.  A good loud.  

Thank you God.


  1. Sorry you all are having a rough time. Try to remind yourself that you have survived the very worst time already when your babies were in the NICU. But, that first year at home is right up there as being a second close place to the time in the NICU. It is sooooooo exhausting managing doctor's appointments, therapies, insurance, etc. and you have one more baby than I do. Hopefully, their second year will be much easier for you. By the second year, I started to feel more normal although we still have therapy and a swallow study today followed by more therapy and an Early Childhood Intervention assessment tomorrow. Oh, the life of moms with micro-preemies!

  2. The first year at home IS scary and difficult. What you are feeling is so totally normal. Chin up, mama! ... and hope you get some rest. Sleep helps so much.

  3. You deserve to let it all out on days like that! (and then some!) I hope you are as kind and loving to yourself as you are to your children and all who know and love you! Wishing I lived closer and could be there more often....know that you are always in my prayers, thoughts, and heart. XOXOXO

  4. big hugs to you. I know that I have those moments a lot, where I wonder why this couldn't be easy, and why things couldn't have happened the way I planned. You are so strong! Stay well. Take care of yourself as well as those little ones. Get some snuggles. And then we truck on. ~Amy (Benjamin's mom)

  5. I'm sorry I just came across this post! I'm so glad that the poem helped...and like everyone else said, you are doing great! I can't tell you how many times I was angry/sad/hurt at God. Not that I'm justifying it, but I've heard it's a normal reaction. Hoping and praying that your little ones feel better soon!