My husband and I were supposed to go to New York City with two of our best friends on Tuesday, to see the city and the fantastic Christmas show put on by the Brooklyn Tabernacle. It was a RARE kid free day we had planned, and the babysitter was lined up months ago.
On Sunday, Caleb began vomiting. On Monday, Josh, our four year old began vomiting.
Adios, New York City.
Though Josh recovered quickly, Caleb continued his random and frequent vomiting spells. Each day he seemed a little more tired and a little less himself. I took him in to the doctor twice, once with a diagnosis of an ear infection, and then two days later another doctor declared there was no ear infection and it was just a tummy bug. That doctor also declared that Caleb would stop vomiting after the visit and I need not worry.
Then he vomited the next day. And the next.
Each day that he wasn't better, my worry began to grow. I found myself googling everything from allergies to baby brain cancer symptoms. What started as a small seed of apprehension became a rather large knot in my stomach, which, by yesterday, had turned into overwhelming anxiety that something was very wrong. After seven days of my baby vomiting, I was scared.
I try hard not to be the crazy mother. The one who goes to Google for medical advice and immediately thinks the worst of the smallest illness. But I find with Caleb, I am always on edge and anxious. I think because he is the baby I had after loss, deep down I am always terrified that he will be taken away from me and my rainbow will be gone. I'm afraid I don't deserve him and that it's just a matter of time before the universe steals him away from me. I have learned that fear lends itself easily to irrationality.
With all of this stress, and worry, and constant vomit-cleaning I was on edge yesterday. While shopping at Giant, a man, who in retrospect I suppose was probably also having a bad day, was very rude to me, and instead of letting it go, I exchanged some heated words with him in the Christmas card aisle. I said things that should never have escaped my mouth. I went back to apologize to him for what I had said, and it only made him angrier, so I said some more unkind words in return. What a disaster. I might as well have been in middle school all over again.
I got into my car and cried my eyes out. Cried because I was worried about my baby. Cried because I had let my temper get the best of me. Cried because Christmas is stressful.
And as I sat there, feeling quite sorry for myself, and rather humiliated by my grocery store display, I was reminded of the words that God so lovingly spoke to me on the day of my miscarriage.
Emmanuel.
God is with us.
There are days, and weeks, and sometimes months that I can fool myself into thinking I've got it all together. That I am a pretty good person and decent Christian. And then there are days, like yesterday, where the mirror is put up to my face and I see that, despite having things together on the outside most of the time, there is still plenty of sin in me, and I need Christ now more than ever.
I came home and tearfully confessed the whole ordeal to my mother-in-law, who was staying with us. She reminded me that this is exactly why we celebrate Christmas. We celebrate that God, who loves us despite our worst failures and shortcomings, sent Himself in the form of a baby, to teach us how to relate to God and, eventually, to die in our place.
I had forgotten the truth of the Christmas season. I had taken my eyes off of the One that I should have been focused on all along.
After getting home from the grocery store, Ben and I attempted to go out to lunch with friends, leaving the kids home with his parents. We had driven less than a mile when we got the call that Caleb was throwing up again. After a call to the pediatrician we were sent to the ER.
The entire drive to the hospital I was wrestling with fear. You see, once you experience loss, you know that deep down the worst thing really can happen. No matter how many people tell you things will be okay, you know your child could have cancer, or your father does have incurable muscular dystrophy, or you can find out your baby has no heartbeat. There are no guarantees.
It's in moments like this that I come face to face with the fact that I have no control over life's circumstances. And that no matter how many good deeds I do, or nice thoughts I think, or religious practices I follow, I can't rack up enough "good karma" to prevent bad things from happening.
I have found in these circumstances that I have two choices: to turn my back on God, or to run closer to Him. Yesterday, as we drove to the hospital, my apprehension at an all time high, I found myself praying the most sincere prayer I have prayed in a long time.
God, I do not know what is wrong with my baby. I'm scared that he isn't going to get better, or is sicker than we know. I acted like an idiot today and don't deserve any answered prayers. Please just be with me and give me peace.
I felt him whisper back to me, Child, you are dearly loved, and I am Emmanuel yesterday, today, and tomorrow. You can trust Me.
And I can. I can trust in the One who never leaves me. Who always forgives me. Who offers a second chance. Who convicts me when I do the wrong thing and reminds me that apart from Him, the ugliness and fear in my heart will win.
We were at the hospital for a few hours, and doctors believe that Caleb just has an extra stubborn virus that is hanging on longer than usual. We were sent home with some anti-nausea medication, and he woke up today smiling for the first time in days. Hopefully we are over the worst and headed toward sunnier days.
Today, on this Christmas Eve, I awoke with a deeper sense of what today is truly about. Christmas Eve is the anticipation of the greatest gift that the world has ever received. A Savior, born as a baby in a lowly manger, who came to save us from the ugliness of sin and to comfort us as we walk through life's most difficult circumstances.
I need Christmas today more than ever.
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:6
Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. 1 Timothy 15:17
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