No New Answers, but So Many Blessings

This morning, I found myself in a puddle of tears sobbing on the phone to my dear friend, Anne Marie. After almost three long weeks, we are still no closer to finding answers we need or going home. This baby has been poked and prodded and tested and tortured and given medications "just to try", and so much more. We've had to move rooms to accomodate other children with contagious diseases, have had part of our house flood, have been apart as a family for weeks now, and...well, I know there's more. I just can't think of it right now.

So, there I was just sobbing and just wanting to beg Anne Marie to make it all go away (as if she could just wave a magic wand and make that happen, right?). I haven't slept in a looooooong time, and I think my thinking might be getting a little foggy at this point. (Thank goodness for happy pills!) I'm frustrated and maybe just a little bit frightened. I miss my other children horribly and The King tremendously. He is my best friend and the shoulder I cry on in times of trial. And yet, we're so far apart. And I hate it.

Anne Marie promised me that, through Heavenly Father, amazing things would come of horrible trials. I told her she'd dang well better be right or the Lord would be getting a strongly worded letter from me. She's not typically wrong, so the odds were good that positive things would come to pass.Let me just tell you about the incredible blessings that have come because of Little Guy's hospitalization. I can't begin to name them all because I'm not sure I've even recognized all of them. Honestly, I'm not sure that I ever will. Our church family has rallied in ways I can't begin to describe. Women have taken all of our laundry home to wash, dry, fold, and return it. My kitchen has been deep cleaned and reorganized. My children's rooms have been top to bottom cleaned. The flooded parts of my home have been cleaned and repaired. Closets have been organized. My master bathroom has been completely made over. Women have remembered little things I've said in the past and used those memories to make my home into something I can love and enjoy. My children have been cared for lovingly by people who have really no time to do it, but love our family so much that they'd give of themselves for us. Food has been provided. Love and support has been endless. I don't know of all the people who have been working tirelessly on behalf of my family, but I know they're there. And I know they're tired. And I'm grateful. Words won't ever begin to express my gratitude.

Today I got a visit from one of the girls I taught when she was a youth and young adult. She lives nearby and just knew I needed a visit. Brooke (that's her name) brought me a gossip magazine and chocolate. Nothing could have been more perfect. Nothing.

And then there's the MOFia. Some of you may know that I'm a proud member of an online message board for LDS moms. It's a private board full of women who all know at least one other person in real life (in other words there are no dirty old men). We are a tight knit group of about 130 women who are always there for each other. I've never met anything like it. It's like the perfect model of an LDS Relief Society.Taffi is a member of the MOFia. She came just a for a visit just days before Little Guy was readmitted to the hospital. She has extended her trip four times since she got here and given of her time and resources. She has stayed up through the night on nights that I could just not stay awake a minute longer. She has endured hosptial food that requires immodium and pepto to digest. (Not even kidding, people! Don't eat the hospital food). And she has done it freely and without any expectations. She's leaving Friday, and I was preparing to take the reigns here at the hospital on my own.

When Taffi came back from visiting with Angela, she informed me that another MOFia member, Lisa, would be arriving Friday evening for another week or so to help out. Her husband heard of the situation and they wanted to help. I can't begin to repay her or even promise her a fun time. And she knows about the food here, too. (Maybe she likes living on the edge?) She just chose to give of herself for no other reason than she could. And there is such a need. I can't even begin to explain my level of gratitude.So, here I sit at the end of a day that started with tears and heartache and fear. I'm looking at the bigger picture and realizing how blessed we are. While our baby is no closer to finding answers to explain his breathing troubles and our finances are no longer what we'd planned on them being and our family is not currently residing in the same place, we are blessed. We are so very blessed. And loved.

Anne Marie challenged me to pray. Any prayer. Just prayer out loud. I'll be honest and admit that I've not heard myself pray out loud alone in years. I've always felt I sounded a little "weird" praying out loud. It's going to take more time to get to where I pray out loud. But the prayer in my heart tonight is one of hope and thanks.