Sunday, February 10, 2013

Whine. Whine. Whine.

It has been a long week. One of those emotionally-taxing-need-to-cry kind of weeks.

Not earth-shattering.

Not life-threatening.

But exhausting nonetheless.

And sleep has eluded me almost every single night. I fear having more of these weeks as we get closer and closer to Benjamin's spinal surgery date in May. My head knows the answer -- prayerfully turning this over to God with faith -- but man, my heart seems to draw it back just moments later as my prayer goes from faith-filled, to fear-filled and I transition to begging God to heal Benjamin RIGHT now. Right. now.

And any chance of sleep goes out the window.

This week I was working through. I was trying to fight down the emotional-tumult that seems to be extremely near the surface these days...when we had an eye appointment for my boy. Benjamin struggled with strabismus as a baby and as a result had surgery right at his first birthday to correct the crossing of his eyes. At 8, he had surgery again to correct a drifting that was starting to occur with increased frequency. Thursday, our eye doc says that needs to be done again.

Benjamin is on the right of the pic -- can you see his little eyes??

I know. I do. This will be out-patient and as risk-free as putting your child under anesthesia and having someone mess with their eye muscles can be. But it is one more. ONE more surgery in the long list that has enveloped me in the last few years. And I barely refrained from screaming at this dear doctor. Rather, with my head being supported by my hands (I am sure it was a lovely sight) I asked him where I should rank this compared to the spine surgery? Should we have the eyes corrected BEFORE (read: we have to find a time to do a surgery between now and May.) or could we wait until after we recovered (read: until I have found any semblance of strength to rival that of my amazing son...cause that wasn't a typo when I said "WE recover"!).


Benjamin on the right.


Perhaps I looked woe-filled and he took pity, but Dr. S agreed to re-assess Benjamin in April and we can make a plan then.

And so as I worked to get my eyes to close last night, I was struck by how many surgeries these amazing kids of mine have endured and this is what I realized:

0-3 years old: Benjamin had eye surgery at 1; a tendon-lengthening at 3.


Sweet Benjamin on the left -- days before his surgery.


4-8 years old: Both boys had Selective Dorsal Rhizotomies (spine surgery) -- Mason at 5; Benjamin at 6; Claire had tubes in twice and tonsils out at 8. And Benjamin had eye surgery at 8.



With his beautiful eyes shining bright and straight!!


9-11: NONE!! (Though hubby quickly pointed out that I had surgery during this season when sweet Baby Cate was born! I don't count that! Smile)

12-15: Benjamin had his giant hip surgery at 12; hardware removal from that at 13; Mason had giant leg/foot surgery at 13, hardware removal at 14; Benjamin had wrist surgery at 15 and will have just turned 16 when he has spine surgery to correct the scoliosis. And now we will throw in eye surgery at some point.


Where we go when we need to "recover" from surgery....


We are in a growing season. Growing and Cerebral Palsy battle each other. I know this. I know that the surgeries have had to increase to balance the changes occurring. I know this. But I don't have to like it. I don't have to embrace it. I don't have to relish the thought of yet another one. And I won't.

But I will find my peace. I will embrace the joy that is my four kids. I will encourage and exhort Benjamin to find HIS peace and his joy and we will persevere, giving thanks in all our circumstances and praise to God for making us a family.

We will choose joy. There is no other way to find our blessings.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Carol, prayers for you and your family.
Lately, I find peace when I listen to a Casting Crowns song named "Already There." The song says, "When I am lost in this mystery, to you my future is a memory because you are already there." A beautiful song that reminds us of God's grand design, and says that "I can't wait to get to the other side" and see how the it all comes together.
I realized this week that we are more like Jesus when we can be real and say, "Dad, can you take this cup from me?" It's ok to question, to grieve, and then find your spot in his peace again. when you can say, "Alas, Dad, your will and not my own." Be human. Grieve. Then find your peace and direction, because Benjamin is gonna get his from you. Creflo Dollar said this morning that it is already a completed work. You already have all you need. His strength and comfort are with you--because God did not withhold his son. You and Benjamin are completely loved by the Father who speaks and things happen (Rom. 8:32

AZ Chapman said...

hang in there

Unknown said...

what a testimony to the Lord's strength in your time of need! thank you for your vulnerability.