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What started out to be a headache and a fever turned into a 58th trip to the ER. My tough-never-cries-never-stops-moving-Brayden couldn’t get out of bed. Couldn’t break the fever, and had a fetal position is the only way headache. Tylenol was worthless, so I did the next logical thing; freaked out and rushed him to the ER. I reminded myself this is just going to be a “yes lady, you are in fact crazy, people get headaches that don’t have brain tumors” discussion followed by orders to drink fluids and eat junk food, or whatever other instructions follow a ER visit for people who don’t feel good.

Well, God had other plans. The Dr. said we could get a lumbar puncture (painful) to be certain he doesn’t have meningitis…but he thought the odds were low. I wanted to say-look chief, you don’t know what kind of family you are dealing with…however, it felt a little too mobsteresque. I withheld our history, and politely responded with a “YES, I am fully aware I am a psycho paranoid mother. How fast can you get it done?”

An hour later, he came in and shared the news. B has meningitis and they are transferring him to the pediatric unit at a different hospital via ambulance.

And here we are, waiting to find out if it’s viral, or bacterial. Viral, he goes home and video games it up till his eyes bleed. Bacterial, he stays in the hospital longer, IV antibiotics and lots of petitioning our good God that the antibiotics work.

I am so thankful God made him the way He did. I can sometimes get frustrated with his stubborn nature and strong will. Today I praise God for his strength. Enduring that lumbar puncture and IV placement through clenched teeth made me realize how God’s hand is truly in every detail of the good and the painful.

God also blessed me with some humor. Ready? Ok, good. The sweating, yes, SWEATING, Dr. giving the puncture falls off his round  little chair to the ground directly following the procedure. I did the compassionate thing and laughed, he however, was not. (He is ok) You can’t make this stuff up. To end the day, a very dear, kind, generous friend met us at the hospital, brought us our favorite foods, coffee’s, B’s gluten free pizza, loads of goodies, but most of all a picture of Christ, who is God, so unbelievably generous. Full of grace and mercy. Thank you beyond words J. I won’t completely rat you out, but I pray God lays up mountains of treasures in heaven for you.

Please pray with us, that the cultures come back viral, not bacterial meningitis.

2 years ago this morning, we left CHOC with empty arms. Dark, broken, empty hearts. A blanket of sadness we fought to carry to the car, to pick up and share the news with our other babies. We made it through that day, the days that preceded and followed by God’s grace and mercy…His faithful presence and promises. The outpouring of love from our family and friends.  We clung to Him and each other in a way where I look back, and I honestly crave the depth of that dependence. On our Savior and eachother. I will never desire the circumstances that led us to that valley, but I look back and see a sliver of what Heaven must feel like. In step with our Lord, face down, worshipping God for the Holy, loving, God He is. Wholly trusting in His generous mercy by the second. Revisiting this day makes it feel like we just gave him his last bath, said goodbye, left that sterile cold room with some worthless trinkets. Voluntarily reliving the experience is something I deny myself far too many times. The dark desert of sadness is a place I fear going, I try to avoid as I never know how long I will be lost there. On some level I feel like in the moment of choosing to go ‘there’ I am choosing to forsake the many ways God has shown me His hand and the many good things that have brought Him much glory through it all. Don’t get me wrong, there are many times the loss crushes me without warning. But allowing myself to follow the trail that leads me to the memories of that day is opening a door into a place I am never sure I want to be left in.
So what am I doing today? I shipped my boys to school and did what south Orange County people do and went to the gym. Only to realize, of course, the class I intended to go to is tomorrow. Way to plan Michelle. The point in going was to avoid idle time. So, I sat down to write. Only to have two women sit next to me lamenting over shoulder surgery with the oh-my G**, and then talking about their church, to dropping f-bombs and ending the discussion with planning to ditch work one day and indulge in mimosa’s and pass out on a beach. Normally, I don’t judge. But when you claim church, the body of my Savior, or whatever church might mean to you, and then proceed to share that example…I struggle to not interrupt and tell you to shut it. It’s hard to see how God will use that. Oh…that’s right Michelle, 8 years ago, you were that hypocrite. And God used that wickedness and lack of respect to allow me to see the dirty rag of a sinner I was, and still am. So I prayed. And still judged. And then prayed.
Now, I plan on praying,  pretending to workout, going all crazy and getting a fancy coffee and if I play my cards right, maybe even shower. I will get my boys and head over to visit his grave, and probably sweat as its 90 something degrees today. Can you get it together California? I prefer 70, but can we stick with a happy medium?
I can’t help looking back at the past two years with joy, gratitude and peace. One year ago, God brought me through many complications, the threat of meningitis, 5 surgeries. I could not walk, didn’t know if ever would normally walk again. Running was a joke. Driving? Ya right. Readily accepted that was too much for God to do. I didn’t know if I would ever think clearly or be able to independently care for my children again.  Much like 2 years ago, I had no idea why God brought me there. I questioned if this was a gift or punishment, yet forcefully trusted that He had/ has plans. He chose me to take part in His plan, and as followers of Christ, isn’t that what we all pray for? ‘Use me! I am yours!’ I prayed that long before any of the trials rocked our boat. Looking back, I see the redemption He has given us, been kind enough to show us firsthand-to build our trust and look forward to the redemption He promises to give after death. He is the victor. Today, I rest in that. I praise God for giving me all you cherished family, friends, friends of friends, and people I do not know…to pray for us, love us, encourage us. You will never know how mightily God used you to help us walk this path faithfully, steadfast. He used you all to help us press on. We deeply love you. I want to encourage you all to give extra love to your babies-give them that chocolate bar. Put down your phone, computer, distraction and give them a cuddle. Search God’s Word for a promise, a new truth. He is ever faithful…oh is He faithful.

Christian would have been 2 years old on Thursday, 5/14. These last few weeks have been incredibly hard. Harder than last year. A year ago, my mind was altered, I had the chance to sleep all day. You know, do the things people long to do in times of depression and suffering. This time, I don’t have the bed sentence and IV narcotics to help me crawl through this season.

Grief is a different shade of black for everyone. Maybe you are a muted ashy black and you are grappling with the truth of loss, but you aren’t face down. Maybe you are a deep unmistakable black and are wishing life away.

I am in a charcoal black space right now. On good days, I can be light and fun. The dark moments, hours, and days are black. And I get angry. {if I am being honest}. Angry not at the why-because my head gets it. I can absorb the concept of God’s sovereignty…but why doesn’t my head and heart knowledge connect? Why aren’t God’s countless acts of mercy drowning out the sadness?

In the words of everyone who has lost someone meaningful in their life, death sucks. When I hear the term, ‘pass away’, I cringe. Such a peaceful way to help us quiet the reality of mortality. The loss of a loved one is emotional torture. My personal experience has been that God seems to sit quite a bit higher on His throne…His Word is much louder, my quiet times are much richer. While  I continue to brace myself from the pain, I can always look forward to His goodness. His sweet mercy, which is more precious than anything this world can offer.