The River....

I was such a child while I carried Patrick.  I talked before about meeting challenges 'head-on' but youth somehow protects us from the 'realities' that we ultimately understand  from experiencing life.  At 22 I had no concept of what was happening.  It was more like a movie that was scripted before me and my role was to move with the characters presented.  There was most certainly a flow and rhythm to my life.  Knowing in the early weeks of my pregnancy that there would be a litany of tests and procedures - a high risk and orchestrated birth - and then a series of nothing but unknowns - was not the least disrupting.  Somehow I just settled into the ride -like floating down a river with a strong current.  I knew I had to be aware and alert - but it just was.

I was a child but there was no time to be childish.  I watch now as moms laugh with their babies with a lightness that I don't ever recall experiencing as a mom.  Megan wasn't even three months old when our journey with Patrick began.  I hardly remember that time with her.  I am sure that she was safe and cared for.  I am confident that I laid on the floor with her and played with her toys.  She was fed every morning and wore pink dresses or baby overalls.  Her story would forever be impacted by her brother and as I experience an amazing and loving relationship with her now - I secretly pray that somehow she can forgive me for who I couldn't be for her then.


We lived in a little apartment in a small town not far from Binghamton.  Their dad was a banker and I don't recall working at the time.  Isn't it odd that I don't remember being home with my baby - I can't recall whether we took a walk every day or even a park that we would go to.  I do remember one night - rocking her in the small nursery we had in our upstairs apartment.   I had her snuggled close and I can see the thin mattress that sat on top of the wooden changing table.  I can recall my thoughts as I gazed at the cloth diapers clean and stacked on the bottom shelf.  I can feel now the warmth of her body as it burrowed into mine. Somehow though she would join me as a supporting member of the cast - and she would find herself floating with the current.

The initial months of my pregnancy were the easy ones - there were doctors visits but it was a feeling almost of excitement.  My upbeat and confident interactions with the specialists in the high risk clinic made me feel optimistic and the attention to my unique diagnosis was overwhelming.  "Would we want to terminate the pregnancy?"...of course not.  "Did we understand the probabilities that accompany this diagnosis?"...of course we did.  "Ok -we'll see you next month..."

And so we floated down the river...bobbing at times - but unaware of what was around the next turn.  As an adult now I understand the importance of not worrying about the future.  I get it when our pastor talks about what faith is.  Somewhere in my recent journey I heard an analogy that makes so much sense... Faith is much like the confidence and understanding that you feel at night when you are driving down a dark country road - your headlights only allow you to see the next several feet ahead - but you know that beyond the headlights there will still be road for you to drive on.

Even in my childishness and inexperience - I was fortunate to have faith.  Patrick's story would be brief ...with a current all its own and with a road that I could never have imagined.  I have matured to understand the blessing of  that intrinsic faith...the protection that it provided me then ...and the comfort and peace that is my truth now.  The river really  never began or ended with Patrick - but instead he joined me ...to float and bob along for a while...