Earlier this week was rough.
I've been reflecting on it, and I've yet to put my finger on why it was so hard. I mean, I've had really hard days in the past. I've lived days steeped in grief and anxiety up to my eyeballs. I've received horrible news. I've put my foot in my mouth in a spectacular fashion that damaged close friendships. None of that happened and still it was really difficult.
Here's the saga:
It started out as a typical Tuesday. No visitors were coming, so James and I just got to toot around on our own. I had a loose plan for the day: gym, shower, pediatrician, nap (for James), ecumenical summit in the evening. I had my food ready to go so that I wouldn't be too hungry while we're out and about. It was raining but it was off to a good start.
Midmorning, I changed the plan and decided to go to the gym after the doc because James put himself to sleep in his crib for his first morning nap (win!). The day started to unravel when we went to the doctor.
I called last week to ask 3 questions over the phone but they couldn't put me in touch with a nurse or our doctor, so I called back on Monday to make an appointment for Tuesday. When I arrived on Tuesday morning (on time, with a 3 month old, in the rain, just to give myself a little props), they told me they had me in the system for Wednesday, not Tuesday. They were able to work me in for an appointment at 2:30.
Change of plans: lunch, doctor (again), gym, summit.
We went home, James napped a little more and came back at 2:30 to absolutely NO PARKING. While I circled the parking lot several times to no avail, I called the office to let them know we were there and I was put on hold for so long that we were walking in by the time I was connected.
Then we waited for over 45 minutes to see the nurse practitioner.
I was so frustrated, I almost started to cry. While we were there, we found out that James has lost 4 ounces since his last appointment. And he might be lactose intolerant. More almost crying. Then I got in the car and actually cried on the phone with my husband and my mom. And I cancelled my evening plans.
I felt like depsite my efforts to nurse James, my body was failing me and my son. I felt exhausted and belittled. I felt like my time was disrespected and my plans were futile. I felt like God was offering Grace, and I was incapable of receiving it.
Ever had a day like that?
It reminded me of being on mission trips, when simple plans go awry, and when your efforts alone can't get the job done. When this happens, you have to take a few deep breaths, pray and regroup with your team. You have to pause long enough to remember that it's okay that it's not okay. Deep breath. It's good to admit that it's so hard. Deep breath. It is not for naught. Deep breath. Remember what you're grateful for.
|My two favorite men.|
Thank the Lord I have the best teammate ever, my husband Patrick. Thank you God that our son is alive and healthy and that we have the means to help him with formula and doctors and lots of snuggles. Praise the Lamb for our incredibly supportive friends and family that always lend a hand.
Last but not least, thank goodness that rainy Tuesdays always end.