Only surpassing being the pastor of a small Baptist country church by a few tally marks, being a parent is the most difficult job in the entire world. It is exhausting, yet exhilarating. It is terrifying and trying, yet satisfying and rewarding. There is nothing like it.
I never imagined being the mother of four children, yet I am. I also never imagined having to parent my four children from a hospital bed, an hour away, for twenty-eight days straight. That was certainly never in my daydreams as a little girl. Nonetheless, it became a reality on 8/23/2012, the day changed our family forever.
I told you in the previous blog post that we dropped the kids off with Keith's sister, Angie. If I had known that was the last time I would hold them without wires and cables hanging out of me, I would have held on forever. I am not sure how many days passed before it was before I actually got to lay eyes on any of them again after I left them that day. My times runs together. I do remember though telling Keith to make sure of "this" and to make sure of "that". I was still trying to be Momma as best I could.
When the dust would settle each day, at first, Keith would go over what had happened all throughout the day and who came and called. He would tell me about talking to the kids. He and Shelli seemed to have taken control over my job. They had the little ones all taken care of...Aubri was with Angie and Josh, and Cooper was with his mom and dad. Shelli and Marli were floating all over because Shelli was able to drive. Keith and Shelli knew when one child would be swapping from one location to the other, and they were the ones making the arrangements to make that happen. All I could do was just agree.
The first day I was in the hospital, Shelli had teeth extracted and I had to leave her. I could not take care of her. Then time passed, and it was September 6th, the day she was to get her braces. I could not be with her then and I could not take care of her then. All she had was my voice. And all I was the assurance from others that she was okay and doing well. I wanted to go to KFC and get her some mashed potatoes and gravy, but I couldn't. I wanted to give her blue Gatorade, but I couldn't. All I could do was nothing. Just have faith and trust that what I was being told was true. I had to believe that I was doing my job as a mother by sitting still and letting my body "do its thing" so I could get back full force to her. Easier said than done.
From my oldest to my youngest, my thoughts hopscotched all day long. I knew without a doubt that Aubri was in the best care. But it just wasn't my care. She was just a tiny baby. Everyday was going to be something new for her, and I wanted to be the one to see it. Aubri was my last baby. I wanted every moment of hers. I didn't want to lose one single coo or roll over or smile. Would she even know my voice when I ever did get to hold her again? But again, God said, "Melissa, if you want her thens, you've got to let me have the nows." I had to let go and trust. I had to let my body heal to a point where I could get back to her so I could have her again, and hopefully many, many more thens.
Cooper is just my child that goes with the flow. God blessed him with being a preacher's child early in life, so he is easy. But in my heart of hearts I knew he wasn't going to understand why momma and daddy were gone for so long. And he didn't. I remember the first time they strolled me down to the lobby to see him I was all hooked up to the drip and I had my ports hanging out of my neck. The poor baby didn't know what had happened to his mommy. I'm sure there's a few thousand dollars worth of therapy in our future about that. Coop was real stand-offish. I would be too.
And Marli, my Marli, her heart is so tender and can't handle much so she turns toward self. She pretends it's no big deal, but she is really going nuts inside. I wanted to just sit with her and explain to her everything, because all this was just dropped on her like a bombshell. Too much for her to handle. Too much for any of us to handle. She did not want to talk to me much on the phone and didn't want to look at me much when they came for short visits. It hurt, but I understood.
Each child has different needs, and even while fighting for life, they needed me in all those ways. I tried to fulfill every request I could. I took every opportunity I could to talk to them. I tried to always be positive but never lie. Yes, I even answered the hard question of "are you going to die?" Well, I don't, but if I do, you can bet your sweet bottom I will be with Jesus tonight. And you should know how much I love each and everyone of you.
Shelli and I had some talks about "what if I really did die". That was a tough one to have, yeah. I just told her what I expected of her and how I would like for it to play out. She said okay.
The bottom line is the time I spent away from my children physically, I was actually more mentally with them than I ever had been before. Because I was forced to be still and not be busy with world stuff, I had the time to pray over my kids and write letters to them. Plan things out for them. God used this hospital bed vacation as a time for me to focus on my kids and to realize and to re-evaluate where some changes needed to be made. God taught me calmness during this time. I had never experienced a day of calm in my entire life. But through the trials of what my physical body had to endure, I had to be calm or else.
Parenting is hard. Period. But I dare not try to parent my children in this world without having been armed with the Word of God. I trusted in that bed that what I was praying for was being heard by God and was being handled. And it was. My kids were perfectly in tact when I came home. and I am so so very thankful for all those that had a part in keep them. I will not name names because my memory fails me. But y'all were my angels. Aside from me never letting go of the Bible and God sending angels to attend my way, those twenty-eight days would have been an epic parent fail.
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