One of my goals in blogging is to be open and painfully honest. I have found that sitting down and putting my thoughts into words has a release that is intoxicating. While I thoroughly enjoy the comments and seeing that people are reading my post, (I recently got over 500 hits!!!) there is a deeper need for me to just get these thoughts and feelings out.
Feelings like I had on the afternoon of Saturday, Oct 22…
Feelings that pierced my heart in a way I have never felt before…
Feelings that hurt…but I would never take away.
First of all everyone should know I didnt sleep at all on friday night. I wasnt really kept up by Eli’s crying. I wasnt even kept up by the constant murmers and sounds that came out of his mouth. I was kept awake by the sheer desire to hear him. I wanted a constant reminder that Eli was there. I also enjoyed listening to my wife be a mommy. There were times that, while I laid in the chair -couch-thing that I was supposed to call a bed, I listened to the tender voice of a new mom soothing our son.
Sounds hopelessly romantic?
So when the morning broke on Saturday I was more tired than I have been in a long time. I really didn’t notice. The day went by pretty well. Eli was a great patient and Andrea was finally over the nausea that came from all the pain medications she received the day before.
Throughout the day there were a myriad of people, mainly doctors and nurses, coming in and out checking on Andrea and Eli. Towards the afternoon there was a scheduled procedure that many young boys have that is very Biblical and normal. The nurse came in to get Eli and they strolled away. The whole ordeal was tough for Andrea. The thought that Eli could be in pain because of decision we, as his loving parents, had made was nerve-racking for her. It was a little easier for me. For me it was just a right of passage, his first step into manhood, nothing to get scared or worried about.
Then the nurse came back.
She explained that there was a small complication and that the doctor wanted to speak to us.
My heart forgot its rhythm.
When the doctor entered the room I felt this wave of fear. I never in my life have been so nervous or afraid. The doctor explained that there were spots all around Eli’s lower half that she wanted to check examine them with an ultrasound.
She informed us not to worry…at the worst it would require immediate surgery …..or it could be birth marks.
And with that she left, assuming everything was just fine.
the door slowly shut and make a, “clank.” I went into survivor mode. I had to be strong for Andrea. I had to protect my family. I had to be the protective dad I had dreamed of being.
I just stared at the t.v.
I do not how much time passed before they took Eli but it seemed like ages. As the nurse wheeled my son out of the room I tried to be strong. My eyes were affixed on the football game being played while soft petals of water drifted down my face. Andrea noticed what was happening and asked me if I was okay.
I said I was …
What followed was a conversation of few words. The moment our eyes met I lost all control. All the fear that I had tried to hide trickled down my face.
I couldn’t speak.
I just cried.
From the moment the doctor said there could be a problem my heart was torn. Her words were shards of glass that were cutting into my soul.
I had never felt such a pain in my life.
I didn’t know what to do….I have never felt so scared and helpless in my life.
I wanted to be strong for my wife,
Strong for my son,
But I wasn’t…in that moment I gave Eli up…to the only Father whose strength will never fade. The only Father who was standing right beside my son as he was being examined. The only Father who could comfort Eli’s scared, weak, and feeble earthly daddy.
It was a simple prayer.
I began to speak the words came through deep breaths and tears. “God he is yours and I ask that everything is fine but if its not I trust you and your sovereignty.”
For a moment my heart stop beating.
I said amen.
Then we waited…
When they brought Eli back the nurse told us she didn’t know anything and we would have to wait to hear the results. Soon we would find out that the only thing wrong with my ill buddy was he had trauma from the birth. It was such a relief to hear. When Eli got back I took him in my arms and whispered, “your going to give me a heart attack before I am thirty five,” pulled him right up to my face and kissed him on the forehead. Then while holding him close, layed back for a brief but needed rest.