Answering: "How are you REALLY doing"

“I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have known the distress of my soul.”

 Psalm 31:7

I can’t tell you how many times I have attempted to come back here, to break the radio silence, and provide an update for you all on Veya. To say it’s been a roller coaster ride is really starting to feel like an understatement, and to be very transparent, this last week alone didn’t feel real. I’m still processing and coming here to write always helps me do that.

Before I dive into things with Veya, there are many who have been asking how we are REALLY doing… and for the most part we have been holding up well, but by no means on our own, it’s God who is truly upholding us and all those who keep carrying us in prayer.  However, we are still very much human and wrestle with grief, sadness, questions, guilt from time to time on this journey, and if anything, this week alone proved that.

We have been walking this road with Veya and God for 83 days now, and truthfully, I am struggling a little at the moment with my feelings and emotions.  I feel like I am grieving the newborn phase with Veya.  It feels like it has been robbed from me, from us. I’d never thought I’d beg to hear my baby cry so badly and have found myself longing for the up-all-night exhaustion of a newborn back.  I just long to hold Veya the way I did with our other three children. Without having to be cautious or restricted.  Without fearing that I am going to hurt her and having to go for long periods of time without holding her at all. (I’m so thankful that God let us hold Veya again for a few days before her transfer to Toronto because we are now no longer able to hold her again due to her fragility) I am sad sometimes because I can’t smell the sweet newborn smell with Veya.  All I smell is the hospital and hand sanitizer. My post-partum high never got a chance to come to the surface before it was gone.  Our life together as a family has become a journey, I never thought we’d have to walk. Yet I still can see God’s hand in it all despite my sadness.  He blessed me with a very uncomplicated delivery with Veya and a quick recovery so that I could be physically healthy to be mentally healthy to go through all of this. 

Then there is the duality of emotion.  Being so incredibly grateful that she is still here with us today, it’s an absolute miracle! To grief and sometimes anger of the emotional roller coaster at hand.  Not just for Jeremy and I but the impact it’s having on our family.

I’ve said this often to those I’ve talked to face to face, but I go through moments where I don’t even feel like I am Veya’s mom – I feel more like a stranger visiting the hospital’s baby.  I mean I know deep down inside I am her mom but it’s a feeling that surfaces often because I can’t care for her in the capacity of how I normally would. I’m told and directed to by the team which I understand is necessary, it’s just hard. 

I used to randomly see photos of moms and dads with very sick babies, and I couldn’t fathom their strength.  Knowing I never would be capable of that; not even being able to imagine what that would be like – but now I’m one of them. We are one of them.  We are having to cover

ourselves in God’s strength as we step into each new day - even though we feel quite weak right now and at our rock bottom.  We are smack dab in the middle of the most traumatic experience of our life.  It’s something I don’t think you can understand until you’re in this spot.  In the deep trenches.  A spot we would never wish on any mother or father, yet in the same breath we have this excitement inside to see how God will use this all for His glory and what this is already doing for our spiritual growth in Him.

After this week I’m just feeling quite nervous and overwhelmed.  I’m scared.  And it’s hard because I come back home and still need to be mom, to our other three beautiful children that I miss so dearly and who don’t fully grasp Veya’s entire medical condition.  Having a child in the hospital and children out of the hospital honestly feels like you’re in the wrong spot at the wrong time.  It has Jer and I both torn inside because we want to protect the other three from carrying their own trauma from this journey, but the reality is we can’t, and we have to also give that over to God and just do our very best with God’s help. 

Matthew West honestly said it so beautifully in his one songs called “Me on Your Mind.” 

“Who am I that the King of the world

Would give one single thought about my broken heart?

Who am I that the God of all grace

Wipes the tears from my face and says, “Com as you are”?

You paid the price. You took the cross

You gave your life and You did it all with me on Your mind.

Just knowing You’re mindful of me

Just knowing you call me Your child

It’s flooding my soul with unspeakable hope

Thank you, Lord.”

 I know God sees my tears. I know He is with our family.  I know He hears the song in my heart…and I trust Him and that His plan is good. Better than our plans.

 Vulnerability is essential to our healing.  I don’t know how long this journey will take, but just as God promises to never leave our side…we hope Veya knows that we will never leave her side and we will continue this fight with her.