Yesterday was our last trip to the pediatrician for awhile. The last of the lab results were in. My wee P proved everyone wrong. Way back in October the doctor told me the "best and worst case scenarios", and I wanted to believe that he was wrong, but I'm not sure I really did. At least not at first. But as we waded through all the diagnostics, I started to believe with all my heart that I was witnessing a miracle -- that the doctors were wrong -- that there was nothing wrong with my wee boy. Was there ever? I'll never know. And it doesn't matter. For right now, he is in perfect health -- all the scads of blood tests and x-rays and ultrasound came back normal. YAY! And look at him, wearing his sisters favourite dancing dress, whirling up a STORM.
I believe that everything happens for a reason, and the reason behind all the worry, behind all the what-if's, behind all the tears and the fear was this: to powerfully remind me to be present with my children, with the whole of my sweet life... to be grateful for every moment I have with each member of my family. When my children refuse to eat what I cook and half an hour later wail with hunger, I think of mothers who have nothing to feed their children and my frustration evaporates. When my children need me in the night leaving me foggy in the morning I think of mothers who don't have their children anymore, crying into their pillows and my frustration disappears. When my children fight with each other, screaming in each others' faces I think of women who can't have children and my anger dissipates.
I am truly blessed. Thank you for your prayers and lit candles. I am forever grateful. I am changed. I am present. I am awake. xo