The past 15 weeks and 3 days of my newest season has been some of the joyous and hardest times I have ever endured. Baby Hope is the most amazing, precious, unexpected gift I have ever had the privilege to receive. Life with her in our family is sweeter, fuller, and so much more blessed. She is adored by all of us, and loves us right back. Watching her face as she sees her sisters wake up or enter the room is priceless. Hearing her squeals of delight and seeing her eyes light up makes my heart swell so much I feel it could burst. I have the five most amazing children on the planet, and there is nothing I love more.
Baby Hope's medical condition requires her to eat a special formula every 2 hours. Around.the.clock. It will stay like this until transplant which could be days or months away. Her stomach is pushed up by the enormity of her huge liver and spleen. She can't take more than a few ounces at a time, and even with just a few ounces she experiences painful reflux that medications do nothing for. It is chronic sleep deprivation, harder than that required of residents studying medicine who are not expected to go months and months with no longer than a two hour block of sleep EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. I am not complaining at all in saying this, but the grueling nature has to be acknowledged. There are days when it seems I can no longer form a coherent sentence and all I can do is laugh at how I sound. There are so many things I hope to accomplish in a day and I am lucky if I can get to a few of them. It is physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting. Yet I would do it for years on end for baby Hope. She is so worth it.
Life as I knew it just 15 weeks and 4 days ago has drastically changed. That season of my life is over and a new one is here. Changes, even changes for good, take adjustment. I have survived the betrayal of false friends and rediscovered the love, sincerity, and loyalty of true friendships. My former routine is gone, and I tend to find comfort in routine and predictability. A new routine is gradually being built and along with it a new sense of myself. The stability and security I had back then is gone, and in it's place is a trust that our future is in His hands. The level of trust I am asked to give goes way beyond the half trust my self-reliant self is accustomed to giving. It is hard, but I will try to do it anyways. Through it all, I continue to be reminded to live in the moment, and cherish what I have.
The reminder to cherish what I have in the present became a little more relevant today as I learned our beloved pastor has plans to retire and move out of state. To say that this will be a huge loss for our church community and my family is an understatement. He and his wife are pillars of faith and true hands and feet of God. They have embraced and loved my non-traditional single parent lifestyle and all of my children. They have taught, listened, prayed, encouraged, guided, supported, laughed, and cried with us. For years, they have helped to navigate the messiness of life. I shudder to think of their presence being distant for purely selfish reasons. Yet, the next well deserved season of their lives will be dawning, and we will tearfully cheer them onto a phase of life where they can rest and enjoy God's goodness. Today's news is another indication to embrace the present and those in it, because life will change. It always does. Even when we wish for a trial to end. Or even when we wish the moments would stop in time.
I can empathize with your feelings about your pastor's retirement. Our beloved pastor was transferred from his church because his more open hearted and open minded approach bothered some conservative members - he was also supportive of a single mom with a non-traditional family. In the end he landed in a church that was appreciative of him and we left the church altogether. I hope your new pastor is as good as the current one! I wonder if there's one or two people who could come spend the night and take over the feeding schedule a couple times a week so you could sleep?
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