What's on my mind...is the incredible moral strength one must have to be a parent of a special needs child.
What my mind cannot even comprehend is the faith that a parent must have to be a parent of a terminal child.
I remember being told that my first child had a rare condition (a defect if you will) that would have been fatal just a few years earlier. I remember the fear, anger, rage, love, and loneliness that flowed through my being during that early ultrasound. I recall with great clarity the discussions about options, procedures, doctors, outcomes, facilities, and mortality rates.
I cannot imagine what it feels like to hear the words 'terminal' and/or 'fatal' in reference to your child. I think about it and my stomach physically hurts, my legs long to run far and fast, and tears well up in my eyes. My throat tenses and I know if I spoke the sounds would be guttural and unrecognizable.
How do you hold things together when you can see the sign so clearly and it shows the end of the path for your beloved child?
How do you count your blessings when you've been dealt such an unfair hand?
How do you look at healthy children whose parents are frustrated and not feel jealous?
They say that God won't give you more than you can handle or more pain than you can bear. I am simply in awe of those parents, for exactly that reason. I admire your strength, your character, and your faith. I don't think I am strong enough or faithful enough to walk in your shoes or to endure the emotional roller-coaster that is your life as you know it.
I offer you my love, my prayers, my support, and my time. To me, you are larger than life, you are the real life super heroes. Your hearts are huge and God obviously knows your strength. I am in awe of you and I feel selfish for every moan or grown, every short fuse, or moment when I lack patience. You remind me that every moment is precious and every child is a gift.
May your paths be abundantly filled with lemons, sugar, sunshine, and never more pain than you can bear.
~Crystal
What my mind cannot even comprehend is the faith that a parent must have to be a parent of a terminal child.
I remember being told that my first child had a rare condition (a defect if you will) that would have been fatal just a few years earlier. I remember the fear, anger, rage, love, and loneliness that flowed through my being during that early ultrasound. I recall with great clarity the discussions about options, procedures, doctors, outcomes, facilities, and mortality rates.
I cannot imagine what it feels like to hear the words 'terminal' and/or 'fatal' in reference to your child. I think about it and my stomach physically hurts, my legs long to run far and fast, and tears well up in my eyes. My throat tenses and I know if I spoke the sounds would be guttural and unrecognizable.
How do you hold things together when you can see the sign so clearly and it shows the end of the path for your beloved child?
How do you count your blessings when you've been dealt such an unfair hand?
How do you look at healthy children whose parents are frustrated and not feel jealous?
They say that God won't give you more than you can handle or more pain than you can bear. I am simply in awe of those parents, for exactly that reason. I admire your strength, your character, and your faith. I don't think I am strong enough or faithful enough to walk in your shoes or to endure the emotional roller-coaster that is your life as you know it.
I offer you my love, my prayers, my support, and my time. To me, you are larger than life, you are the real life super heroes. Your hearts are huge and God obviously knows your strength. I am in awe of you and I feel selfish for every moan or grown, every short fuse, or moment when I lack patience. You remind me that every moment is precious and every child is a gift.
May your paths be abundantly filled with lemons, sugar, sunshine, and never more pain than you can bear.
~Crystal
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