Shifting Perspective

Above the stream

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Below the surface, the current in the stream is strong. Its rushing waters are quiet as we bustle along. Without too much thought or effort, we float forward and all that we feel sure of is the strength of the current and our place in the water. The boundaries of the stream limit our sight. The water occupies everything.

Just above the stream, a whole world teems with life. The rocks and stones stand with a stability and strength enough to resist the current’s pull. The trees that shade the stream look from above with the wisdom of long-practiced perspective. The skies overhead glow with warmth and promise.

To step out of the stream is risky. It requires trust that there is more than what the waters will allow you to see. It holds over me all the reasons to stay in the familiar: the habit of following along, the power of the current, the fear of suffocation, the complacency with a “fine” life, the perceived protection of a predetermined trajectory. Continue reading

the baby is out. the belly is empty.

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Scanning the piles of winter clothes still not given their proper place in my closet, I stand in frustration as I try to pick out the clothes for the day.  Squeals begin over the monitor from my six-month-old whose hunger demands my presence.  It is another morning in which I must find the right loose-fitting top that covers up the belly that remains from pregnancy.

I am blessed to have been able to carry two children in pregnancy and to have access to medical professionals who delivered them safely via caesarean section. My children are the ultimate source of joy and gratitude, AND YET how is it that I look at my belly with contempt now that it is empty? Continue reading

The White Bags and the Ones that Hold Them

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They were everywhere.  Some were held tightly to the chest as if the heart needed it close by.  Some were laying on the ground as if they were too heavy to hold. Mine was in the chair next to me.  The white plastic bag held my husband’s blue pajama pants I gave him a few Christmases ago and his Wake Forest sweatshirt.

They had been stuffed in the bag as he put on the surgical gown for his emergency appendectomy.  All that he came into the hospital with was now in that white bag.  My mind wandered past the front desk, down the hall, through the secured doors, and into the operating room where he lay on the surgical table.  A doctor himself, he was not the healer in this moment.  He was the one being healed.  And all I had of him was stuffed in a white plastic bag. Continue reading

To Know the Heart of a C-Section

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Machines beeped as the straps monitored the baby squirming around in my belly.  Little room left, we were only hours away from meeting him for the first time.  We settled in for the long labor ahead… a book in my dad’s hands, needlepointing in my mother’s hands, and an iPhone in Drew’s hands. I leaned back and closed my eyes.  Unable to take in all the anticipation, I tried to quiet my mind but I couldn’t help but wonder about the pain and ecstasy of bringing this baby into the world.

Breaking the silence, the nurses came flooding in.  Drew stood to read the monitors and my parents emptied their hands as the nurses acted.  They were quick, calm, but anxious – turning me on my side and placing the oxygen mask on my mouth.  “The baby’s heart-rate is too low – he can’t handle these long contractions.”  A needle stuck in my side aided in returning his heart-rate to normal but the words “you will probably need a c-section” lingered in the air. Continue reading

I will trust. I will rest and I will be free.

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One foot in front of the other, I ran.  Music setting my pace, energy burst within me as I left behind a house with sleeping boys and a husband on-call but finally at home.  The sun was blinding as it began its descent. Stepping over roots on the trail, I launched forward.

With each step, I unwound from the day.  Saturdays used to mean sleeping late and trips out to breakfast.  They meant home projects and time on the couch.  Now with two young boys and a husband in orthopedic residency, Saturdays often mean rising early, changing diapers, negotiating screen time, cutting peels off of apples, and reaching the limits of my patience. Continue reading

Mornings: Speeding Up and Slowing Down

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Mornings are chaos.  As a working mom with two young kids married to an orthopedic resident whose gone way before my alarm goes off, mornings require me to muster all the brain-power, patience, and parenting power I have within me to get out the door.  By the time I get both boys fed, dressed, in the car, out of the car, and get the oldest to his classroom, I feel like high-fives and exploding confetti would be appropriate for my accomplishment.

As I walk the youngest into the infant room, my pace slows and my heart gets heavier.  No longer speeding up, I slow down. I slowly unbuckle him from his car seat and take off his blanket, hat, and pacifier clip.  I pick him up and hold him close for one second more.  Cheek-to-cheek, I breathe in that sweet baby smell, I squeeze him close, and whisper “I love you” one last time.

I love my job and I feel great calling and purpose in what I do.  But that moment with my youngest in my arms is one of the hardest moments every day. Continue reading

Fragility, Fear, Gratitude

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Coming back in my office, I listened to the voicemail from daycare – “James had an accident… he’s ok, but…”  The world stands still.  The awareness that my son had been hurt, had experienced pain, had cried out and I had been elsewhere – unable to hug, comfort, and wipe tears.

It ended up being nothing too bad, but I was aware that with the smallest change in the accident, it would have been everything.  One inch higher and it would have scratched the eyeball – it could have meant loss of sight, loss of parental peace and confidence, loss of life as we know it.

Driving to pick him up that afternoon, I entered that space – the space where life stands still.  It is the frightening space where the Fragility of life rears its ugly head and demands that you pay attention.  It’s as if you realize Fragility has been living in your house and you didn’t even see it. Continue reading