The View

Another Semiahmoo Sunset (White Rock, British Columbia)
A few blocks from our house (with a 20% grade)

A little extra sore this morning. Less sleep last night maybe? The patter of the almost 3 year old opening and slamming doors and then diving in between Ken and I who had just barely fallen asleep at 2 am. The 6 am reading aloud of the 7 year old to his younger sister. I know I should be grateful that I have a very comfortable bed, that my daughter is wholly attached to Ken and I, and that my 7 year old LOVES to read. But after a sleepless, pain-filled night, it’s hard to be cheery.

I did doze off, missed my Maximize Your Morning check-in. Missed my accountability partner. And realized, a little late, that the babysitter had not yet arrived. Ken had to rush and get everyone ready to go – I texted her, she was sick and slept through the alarm. I made plans for my beloved mother-in-law to come a bit earlier, and she got sick ON HER WAY HERE.

I saw the midwife today, I see the OB in two weeks. She says the OB is very comfortable working with midwives (yeah) but that with all my complications (I saw the list she wrote when referring me BEFORE my “groin” injury) she may NEED to take over my care. It was all I could do to keep from crying on the couch.

Mimi’s Window

But, there are so many blessings that have graced my day. Yes, I still feel very sad about maybe losing my midwife support. But maybe we can hire a doula. Maybe I can have both the midwife and OB. This IS CANADA and they DO allow midwives in hospitals. And, as Ken pointed out, we live in a time where BOTH options are open to us. AND, even if I had to sleep in the ER hallway 2 weeks ago, I had attentive staff and three doctors (including the OB) who agreed on my diagnosis (and prognosis). The maternity ward is fairly new, I believe it was finished AFTER Claire was born, and apparently (although I haven’t seen it yet) has an ocean view. =D

I’m on my SECOND bowl of chili from my sister-in-love, Amanda. The one with 3 kids, not the one with 2 kids. SO BLESSED to have food brought to me IN MY BED going on 3 weeks now. And food brought to my family in overwhelming (but freezable) supply. And someone to pick up groceries for us, to vacuum for us, to help take care of our children, to take Sean to hockey practice, to have computers, internet, printer and fax so I can still stay in touch with the world.

For my adoption worker (and her supervisor) who called today to see how I was doing and to ask what I still need. And that they WANT to give us support. For my key worker who is going to give me a jingle tomorrow to talk through support for the kids at school, and routines at home, and strategies for helping our children with special needs who have a difficult time keeping their hands to themselves when emotionally aroused (which has been a lot more frequent with the changes in our house).

For a support group of other moms with kids who have FASD who have been here, or are there and can commiserate. And laugh.

For Facebook. For Twitter. For Email. For Bloggers. For books (even ones that make me sob hysterically the first chapter, Mrs. Ann Voskamp). For coffee. For tea. For the beautiful colours of fall out my window. That piece of art on my dresser that came as payment for a website. For “MOMMA LOOK WHAT I MADE FOR YOU” as Savannah runs into the house from school, every day. For the amazing educational assistant who has been walking the kids home from school (she lives across the alley). For the happy dance Claire does when Cindy or Grandma or Daddy walk in the door.

About, um, 17 years ago (maybe a little more) I was going through my first REAL bout of depression. I was having panic attacks, was crying all the time (I remember listening to Sting sing about how Fragile life is on repeat for days). Some guy took me to a mall across the water, as because I worked at The Gap at the time I would somehow know what he should buy to wear, and I remember, on the way back, as we crossed the bridge, our conversation got REALLY real.

Lonely by Myself (Sunshine Coast, British Columbia)
Fragile

He said to me “Do you believe God answers prayer?”

And of course I said “Yes.”

“Do you believe He loves you?”

Again, “Yes.”

“Then you are asking the wrong questions when you pray. Instead of asking for what you want, ask Him to show you how much He loves you.” And that was it.

Well, we may have said more, but that is all I remember. To be honest, I couldn’t tell you if it was Todd or Jim who said those words to me. I was so hung up on another guy at the time, I kind of missed the guys right in front of me who really cared about me, and not just having fun at all night breakfast houses.

So, this is part of the reason I started this blog.  Scattered Graces are how I started seeing God’s love in the every day.  The birds, in the grey Seattle (then, Vancouver now) winter, still singing in barren trees, parking spots opening up right in front of the doors when I’m running late, a curly, blonde mane dancing around with Glee (uh, she’s too young to understand what’s going on, right?), I mean JOY. Hugs from my little girl who we almost lost this summer. Pride in my little man who READS to his sister, and just a year ago he couldn’t recognize all the letters of the alphabet. And my gorgeous eldest, who cleans the kitchen spotless, keeps up after her siblings (even though she shouldn’t have to), never complains and delights me as we look at her friends and tells me their struggles and realizes that we LOVE her because some of her friends are already lost (their parents don’t seem to care).

Reading Ann Voskamp (I just finished chapter 3) has brought me back to that car conversation (I still can’t remember if I was in the karmann ghia or the hyundai, or if both Jim & Todd were in the little convertible or not), to how I get through the dark depths of depression or anxiety from a flashback due to post-traumatic stress disorder: “Ask Him to show you He loves you.” And it’s not that He doesn’t show it EVERY SINGLE DAY, but it’s the attitude of the heart to open my eyes to it, even when I don’t necessarily WANT to see it. And it is HERE, really TRULY everywhere around us.

I really believe that prayer is about opening our perspective into God’s, not the other way around. And THANK YOU GOD for protecting my brother in his horrible car accident today. Ken just said that he thinks God has his dogs chasing him down, losing his house and almost his life in the last few weeks. Thank you for not taking him yet Lord, thank you for keeping at his heart.

3 responses

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *