I’ve tried to convey this most recent development in my heart and mind to a few friends…I’m not sure it makes sense to anyone but me, but I’ll attempt to explain anyway. Maybe you’ll get me.
Since Finn’s shunt revision last Thursday, I’ve felt…well, fearful…but also this overwhelming realization that Finn is not my own. He’s really not my child. Because if he were like me (or Joey), he’d have been born healthy. And he’d have been the runt of the nursery. And he’d be crawling all over the place, pulling up on furniture and active as can be. His biggest health scare would have been an ear infection. I think if he were like Joey and I as babies, I’d take more ownership of him. Like somehow my health and abilities and childhood rubbed off on him. His strengths were because of me.
Once, while I was pregnant, a well-meaning gym member came up to me at the front desk. He asked how my pregnancy was going. I lied and said, “Great!” He told me that my child was going to be the healthiest child ever born. “He’s going to come out of the womb running.” I smiled, went back into the office and cried.
So if Finn were “like me,” maybe I’d be deceived into thinking that somehow I had something to do with his health or abilities or brains. But he’s different; so the Lord’s given me this palpable sense that Finn is HIS. Not mine. I’ve just been chosen to be his momma. And Joey is thankfully his daddy. We’ve been called to advocate for, protect, guide and cheer on this little angel here on earth…but his life is completely out of my control. Of course this would be true if Finn were a “normal” healthy child, but I’m not sure I’d realize it. It is a blessing to share life with Finn, no matter how difficult it will be. And it has indeed been difficult.