"Upsetting the "normal" while creating the beautiful." Annette Kruschek |
We are approaching many anniversaries in our home... some good and worth celebrating; others painful and tearful. When I look at the past six years I cannot help but be grateful to my "unsung heroes". These individual have walked a path that some days is narrow, uneven and even bumpy. Who are these, "unsung heroes"? They would be my five children labeled as "healthy". Hattie, Charlie, Isaac, Eli and Norah... these five have learned terminology and have seen images that many their own age have ever heard or witnessed. Oxygen saturation, single ventricle, CHD, echocardiogram, ICU, drain tubes, Parkinson's disease, carbidopa/levodopa, hospice, eulogy, etc. Big and scary words that become our "normal" because of the choices Dan and I have made as parents. Here is my confession. Six years ago Dan and I signed up for caretaking for aging parents, a father who would ultimately lose his life to cancer within our home. Did I know at the time what this decision would have on the future decisions that Dan and I would inevitably make? No. Did I know exactly what these decisions would have on our children within our home? No. Three years ago Dan and I signed up for a special needs child who was so sick and needed immediate open heart surgery. Did I know at the time that this would be a decision that would bring home another child with the same special need? No. Did I know what surgeries would look like for two children? No. Today I am here to confess that I still have no idea exactly how all of these decisions have effected them. I can only tell you what I do know for certain. I do know that these five children; my children Hattie, Charlie, Isaac, Eli and Norah are some of the strongest and bravest children I know. They have never once questioned us as parents with our decisions. My confession today is that I don't know a lot of things. I don't have the magic ball that will tell me what the future looks like for Clara and Lewis. I don't know what the day will look like when my Mother; their beloved Grandmother leaves us. I don't have these answers. My confession is that being a Mother to special needs children is scary at times. It makes you question if you have done enough, been enough for everyone... everyone meaning my kids who do not carry the "special needs" label or are not 90 years old and do not need extra daily care. God designed our family in such a unique way. He began my journey into parenthood by having four biological children, then he said whispered to me that adoption was our next journey to grow our family. Then he said, "from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." That is when we moved forward with my parents moving into our home, cancer and two special needs adoptions. That is where the, "much MORE will be asked" came into play. I can see it now. God was equipping my children to walk this road. He brought these five together to become a source of strength to one another so that down the road they would have each other. Hattie, Charlie, Isaac, Eli and Norah do not have a label attached to them but they do carry a badge... a badge that would say Brave. Selfless. Understanding. Compassionate and Fearless. I watch them when they don't see me. I watch my 11 year old son run to his 3 year old brother when he senses his mood changing because his food was eaten by another sibling and he knows that food is a huge trigger to a child from an orphanage. I watch my 17 year old son scan the room and floor when he sees his Grandmother walking into our living room because he knows she falls frequently. I see a 7 year old little girl give up her "baby role" in the family and allow two toddlers to suddenly invade her space. I see an 18 year old girl take on the parent role when surgeries take her parents away and finally I see the writings on my refrigerator from a 7 year old little boy, "I am lucky because I have a baby from China." THIS. All of this reminds me that my kids may not have everything in terms of items and vacations but they have something much more valuable... the gift. They understand the gift of a life. While I worry that they have taken a backseat I see that the backseat has the same view as the front. We are all moving in the same direction. We are all together working for the same common good... one another. I realize that it has never been about the destination of where we are going or the "cure" that could be ahead to help our two children it has always been about the journey; the here and now. The togetherness of our family. My kids boarded the boat that was viewed as risky. They have never jumped ship. They have never asked for a better boat. They have sailed the sea in the storms; they've helped it from tipping and they have even grabbed the buckets and tossed out the water when they felt we were sinking. Hattie, Charlie, Isaac, Eli and Norah I hope one day you choose to read this and know that I have seen you these past six years. I see your sacrifices. I see your compassion. I see your selflessness. I see how life has taken our family so far away from the safety of the shore and tossed us into the deepest of waters. I have seen you not only survive but swim. I am here today to tell you all that your Dad and I love you so much. We will never leave your side in these deep waters. We will continue to swim together and enjoy the sights that some will never see. Together we will journey on. Thank you for helping make the sights so beautiful. You are loved today and always.
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AuthorI am a proud Mother to eight children and a wife to my very best friend. I work hard, play hard and love until it hurts. Archives
January 2023
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