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.
