My teeth chattered.
I wasn’t cold.
The last time I’ve felt like this it was the moments after they told me something was wrong with my baby, my first born and they dropped my head and elevated my legs to stabilize a dropping blip coming from the cords attached to a machine. A lifetime, HIS lifetime ago.
Ironically, I looked at a sonogram machine as it scanned my organs, trying to find the source, the problem. No pregnancy this time, not that I thought there was.
For months, I’ve just not been myself.
How do you even talk about it? Why do I feel pain in my side that takes my breath away sometimes?
The 2nd phone call I’ve been waiting on- this phone call came back with the good news- your blood is fine, now to scan your organs, then after that a CAT scan, then… well. We’ll talk then. Sort of good news.
I don’t want to die and snort at the whole thing. ME die? I’m so young. I eat healthy, work out surely *I* couldn’t be sick.
But at night, when it’s dark and I’m alone with my body I hear the suppressed voice speak up.
and today I saw them see something on the scan, something dark in my side. The nurse politely left and I sat there, the sonogram gel becoming cold quickly on my stomach and sides- no life waited to be found. I thought of my friends in that moment who had sat here, the sob of a, “we can’t find a heart beat,” and the death of their child.
I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a shudder run through my body and my teeth chattered. The room was dark and I prayed.
A cheerful doctor came in the room to confirm what I already had seen on the nurse’s face- that something was there and he was going to take a closer look.
“how long have you had this pain?”
“about 4 months.”
I thought of Bear and now he was held down as they did ultrasounds on his heart with the whisper of heart surgery floating around the room. God had healed him by the next appointment to schedule surgery.
“it’s probably nothing,” the smiling doctor reassured.
I thought of death and how I wanted to see my grandchildren. I don’t want to die.
I thought of Bug and when they told me that he’d have Down’s or Edward’s syndrome using that same hand held device, using the mouse to make little crosses on the spots of concern in his tiny 25 week old body living inside me- like they just did with me now. They said there were cysts on his brain and a hole in his heart. But… again. God healed him by the next appointment.
He’s faithful.
I feel his presence with me.
Life is unpredictable, challenges will come at every turn and I have to make the choice now, at 32 years- how will I react to this? How will I respond and live my life- regardless of my circumstances?
Will I trust God? Will I believe he is good if he chooses not to heal me? What if the doctors come back with, “we found nothing,” and I’m off to more testing and confusion? What are my core values and beliefs? How much of my faith is built on a platform of what God has done for ME? How much of my faith is real- bone marrow soaking deep and real? Do I love God for who he is or simply what he had done for me?
Can I now, in the moment give him glory? In my fear and uncertainity?
Yes.
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Update: Like I said at the top- I didn’t really want to post until I had something to say. The funny thing is- regardless of how your relationship with God is or isn’t- I knew he wanted me to post, even though I didn’t really want to. Not 10 minutes later my phone rings from the doctor- at 5:20pm! God is funny about timing, isn’t he? Results were that what they saw upon closer inspection wasn’t really anything. They are ordering more tests. I feel relieved but frustrated this process continues on. Still thankful too.