This is my family.
All of us.
Just thought I'd introduce you.
In spite of yesterday's great news I found myself feeling discouraged and down all day long.
I have no doubt that part of those emotions were a result of exhaustion.
In fact, when Jason and I got home from our second doctor visit of the day we both crashed.
We slept solid for at least an hour.
Last night I snuggled close to Jason and asked the questions that had been burning in my heart.
"Why is it that I can't accept today for what it was?"
"The news we got today is a miracle, and I have no doubt of God's intervention."
"Why can't I leave it at that?"
"Why do I feel like in order for this experience to truly be a trial of my faith, it has to get worse before it gets better?"
"Why do I keep waiting for the next bad thing to happen?"
"Why do I feel like I shouldn't expect miracles, or that I don't deserve them, because so many people around me aren't getting the miracles that they're praying for?"
When I had finally exhausted all of my questions, Jason looked at me and asked a question of his own.
"Do you want me to answer you or is this a time when you're just talking and I'm just listening?"
We've only been married a year and a few months...he's a quick learner.
I told him that I wanted an answer.
He gave me a lot of things to think about.
He referenced the general hesitation anyone feels about asking someone else for help.
And he pointed out that perhaps we're denying someone else the blessings that their helping us would bring into their lives.
"Maybe in a way, you're doing the same thing to God."
"You're hesitant to ask for and to accept His help because you think you have to do it all on your own."
After several suggestions and ideas Jason said, "I can sum it all up in one word."
And with that it all clicked.
That's my problem...that's exactly why I'm so afraid to believe in a miracle being simply that...a miracle.
It's the uncertainty of everything.
With every ounce of good news we've heard it's been overshadowed with bad.
There's blood flow, which is amazing.
And had the doctor left it at that I would have been grateful.
But just after the doctor told us the results of the echo-cardiogram, he told us that they will have to test for yet another syndrome after she's born...one we've never heard of before.
"There's a 20% chance she's got Di'George Syndrome."
And you know what, it doesn't even matter to me if she does.
Just like it doesn't matter if she has Down's Syndrome.
Just like it wouldn't matter if she were born with just one arm.
We'll deal with what we're given.
But for just one day...one appointment...I would really love to leave the uncertainty unspoken.
Uncertainty makes me tired.
Uncertainty is what makes me cry.
And uncertainty makes me think that even though I have faith, I somehow need more.
And now I'm going to take a deep breath and shake it off.
Thanks for 'listening.'