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Thursday, September 10, 2009

Trading expectations for acceptance

People often say time will change things. I, however, understand you need to change those things yourself. Today, for some reason, I was very nostalgic. I think because we have some kind of confirmation about Gavin, and we are out of this holding stage we have been stuck in for so long. I started sorting through some emotions of the past 11 months, and have realized how much progress I have done. I am going to share with you, my moment, where I think was my absolute saddest, lowest and challenging moment. It was a brief few minutes, but from that moment on, I continued to make baby steps and have come now to a place, where I believe Gavin will be ok and they are not just words that leave my lips to get me through the moment.

This occured when Gavin was 3 months old. We were told to wait until the 4 month mark by his pediatrician before we pursued a specialist. I was playing with Gavin, and I was at home by myself, just him and I. Everyday leading up to this point, every moment I got a chance, I was testing his vision. It was a nightmare. I would wave my fingers in front of his face, test one eye then the other. I was driving myself crazy. I would go back and forth with my feelings. At one moment, I would tell myself I'm overanalyzing and need to listen to his pediatrician. The next, I would be in tears. This one moment in particular, I completely broke down. I had just put him down for a nap when we finished playing. I sat on the couch and began to sob. I then began saying outloud

"Please don't let my baby be blind"
"Please don't let my baby be blind"
"Please don't let my baby be blind"
"Please don't let my baby be blind"

I said this for about a whole 5 minutes continously and with each sentence, I got louder and louder. With each sentence, more sadness was coming over me. Before I realized, I was practically screaming at the top of my lungs and I was on my knees. I was uncontrollable. I was yelling. I was a mess and it was my lowest point. I picked myself up off the floor (actually I crawled to the bathroom), washed my face, and called his pediatrician and told him I HAD to see him.

Little did I know then, that my baby would be blind.

I realized as I was going through my screaming, in the back of my mind, I was hoping God would hear me. It was my way to shout out, that I am not ok with my son being blind. I was no ok with these cards he had dealt me. I was NOT ok with going through my stressful pregnancy, knowing I could lose him at any moment, coming home with, what seemed like a perfect little baby. And, now, you want me to be ok with my son being blind?

I was not OK with it, and that was my way of shouting it to the world. I wanted everyone to hear it, and I felt at the moment, I couldn't stop until someone did.

I am putting myself back in that moment, and I have tears streaming down my face. This is difficult to put myself back in that moment, and I look back realizing how broken I was. I needed to go through that transition point. That was the start of my acceptance, without realizing it. I was defying God and what he gave me. It was an absolute breakdown of my spirit, my soul, and my emotions.

I carry that moment with me. I relive it from time to time, at moments when it just hits you. Out of the blue, I see something, something I know he can't see or touch, like the sky or the sun, and I relive a brief moment of my breakdown. I expose myself to that pain for just a short time, because it's something I don't think will ever leave. It is embedded as part of who I am, and it's a moment that my soul needed to experience before I could truly, really accept Gavin's condition. Not Gavin, but the blindness.

From that point forward, I began to trade expectation for acceptance and as a family we have not looked back. We have had our fair share of bumps in the road, but nothing to make us stop and turn around.

Today, I am ok.
I am ok with our obstacles. I am ok with these cards.

I am ok with my son being blind.

I traded expectation for acceptance and, to not sound corny, it truly has made a world of difference. God did hear me. But, the difference is, I began to hear him.

4 comments:

  1. Wow Jen, very powerful. I truly look up to you, Troy, Landon and Gavin. What a remarkable family you are.

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  2. Beautifully written. It's amazing that when you finally transition into acceptance you can feel that peace that only God can give. I am so thankful that you have been able to feel that acceptance.

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  3. Thank you Mel, and thank you Anonymous. ;)

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  4. Hi Jennifer. I love this post. Love your honesty and your willingness to "put it out there". You've done an amazing job with being an advocate for your son. I hope that when I'm challenged with trial such as yours, that I fight the good fight! And do everything I can to overcome. Praying for you girlie and continue to seek HIS will. I love what you said at the end...Hear HIM! Isn't it the truth. We have to stop...be still and Hear HIM. Huggs.

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