Sunday, January 5, 2014

Feelings: Unedited

oh my gracious god. if ever i felt like life is unfair, it's right now.

seven months after the shock and horror of spending day after day watching our precious, long-awaited newborn baby fight for his life, we are right there again - reliving a nightmare. 

helplessly watching as a fragile, tiny life struggles. hearing the endless sirens of machines. staring at a blood pressure number you once never even knew existed and now all your hopes rest on it.

out of control.
overwhelmed.
exhausted.
angry.

how is it even possible? what are the odds that this happen to us again? it's beyond unfair. everyone else, it seems, gets to take home their baby from the hospital with no issues, no stress, no heartache. 99% of parents don't even know what a NICU looks like, feels like. and this is our second round.

we feel cursed. 

just a few short days ago we believed, like everyone else, that this last minute adoption situation was our rainbow, our beauty and promise after the storm. finally, our dream of bringing a healthy baby home would be fulfilled. 

it seems so easy for everyone else. 

oops, we're pregnant.

shall we have another baby? sure, ok, that sounds fun.

and then to the hospital they go and 24-48 hours later they are home, cuddling with their newborn. 

why not us? it's so unfair. 

we were created for this. every bone in my body is built to be a mother. i've wanted this my entire life, and yet...my arms are empty.

i know we aren't the only ones who have struggled. i know it isn't easy for a lot of people. we aren't alone. but right now, it feels that way. especially being half way across the country from our family and community.

the last time we prayed for a miracle of healing, it went devastatingly unanswered. so it's unimaginably difficult to find the strength, but we're hanging on to the smallest ounce of concentrated hope we've got left, and asking, once again, for a miracle.

6 comments:

  1. Praying for you all with all our might and Loving you across the miles.

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  2. Praying for you, too. I thought Facebook had lapsed in time---I could not believe my eyes in reading your post. So unfair so let's pray for the miracle you deserve!

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  3. Dear McCayla and John. Blessings on you as you go through the grief process yet again. May you find the strength, courage and faith to come through this experience. Perhaps, like Job, you will be able to learn from this experience in ways that challenge and then strengthen your faith in ways that can, again, be an example and ministry of sharing with others and helping them to gain strength for their own spiritual journeys. Jim Rugh

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  5. Hi McCayla, I'm a friend of Lindsay's and wanted to let you know I'm praying for you. I haven't experienced what you're going through, but my mom did, several times over -- she lost 8 babies before she had me. Yes, eight (some miscarriage, some stillborn), and then spent 4 months in the NICU with me b/c I was a preemie and weighed less than 2 lbs at birth. Babies were dying all around, but somehow here I am, 33 years later. I am praying for your little adopted boy that somehow he will be a survivor! I think it was all the people praying for me and also that my mom was THERE every day, touching, holding, feeding me. God gave my Mom the strength and desire to keep trying, keep hoping, keep praying and holding on somehow. I don't know what that kind of grace is like, but I pray He will give that to you. My mom was one of the most joyful, encouraging, considerate and loving people I've ever known, even despite all her years of tragedy and loss. And I pray that you, too, will continue to cling to a faithful God even when the world is falling all around you. Because I don't know much, but I know that He is good and He loves you..

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