It's 4 am. I am awake, alone in my bed. John is traveling alot these weeks. I worry. Worry for so many things. John submitted an application to go to Haiti with a Utah Hospital task force, after on a whim on Sunday, he said, "Let's go there, Renee. Let's go!"
Since, we've received many emails from friends with the urge to reply to the call for help. There is a group organized designed to rebuild a hospital called Helping Hands that was destroyed in the quake. They are looking for 150 priesthood brethren to go on a month mission to rebuild. Medically trained and language interpreters especially needed and people who "know Haiti". John served there as a missionary (and was nearly killed there) 20 (!) years ago now. I went back with him and a companion in 1999, 5 years after we were married. It was a sight then. I cannot imagine the suffering & heartache & chaos there now.
I encourage him, sustain him, honor him, but now that he has submitted his papers, I am thinking, "What have I done?" in my younger, naïveté, I would have thought, "Nothing could possibly happen to him"... Now I know better.
I love your prayers for us and our family. I still meet people or hear of people all over the world who are praying for our "miracle" boy. It brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it. Thank you.
My girls pray for Parker to walk, talk, crawl , and hear... It hasn't changed for months. I've added, "have good balance, no more hydrocephaly, heal the brain lesions..." Tonight Hannah prayed that Parker wouldn't be "death" anymore... Indeed!
But "what if" the implant one day stops working, he will no longer hear. If he no longer hears, he will stop making those lovely "guh" sounds he's been making. What if his shunt malfunctions, what if I see him seizing again and again and again. Again? Can I do it again? I realize while thumb-typing on my iphone in my lonley bed at 4 am that he is actually awake down the hallway. So is Penelope. She had her 2nd anti-grippe H1N1 (flu shot) last night, even though her nose was running, and now she is coughing. GREAT!... I worry more.
Parker often wakes about this time. He always has. I thought he was just small and needed to eat more often, but I think it is reflux that wakes him. He is well enough (and smart enough, thank goodness) to reach over and turn on the light now, so even though I scooch his bed away from the light switch, I cannot be annoyed when I awake to them both laughing and waving and jumping in their beds at 3 or 4 am, because he has enlisted his twin in his fun, by turning on the light..even if he doesn't hear himself squealing with delight, or Penelope crying or coughing, in between jumps or laughs.
But now my awakeness is overtaken with worry. For you, for me, for my husband who has decided to leave me, us, at my urging to return to his mission land and speak Creole again. And will he go for an entire month as they are asking? Or less? Will he return with scars, and dirty, tired hands?
I hope and pray. And thumb-type.
The squeals of delight have now turned to whimpers. I am called, by a deaf boy named Parker, and his hearing twin.
An eastern european friend months ago cornered me at church and asked me privately if we had actually named our son Parker after another boy (also named Parker) who died a hero, while saving his friend's life. I exclaim, "Yes!". He told me that in his country they never name babies after dead people. It is considered bad luck... I was horrified, that they would even suggest I do such a thing... Parker may have contracted pneumococcal meningitis even if his name was Moses, which was the other boy name we had chosen, if the 2nd twin was a boy. Moses saved his people. But Parker, did too, and continues to do so, much more quietly.
I finally get up to check the squeals turned to whimpers... The light was indeed on, but now it is 5 am. I gave the chubby cherubic twin a fresh sippy cup of milk and placed her in her wiry, wiggly brother's bed to keep him company while I retrieved his milk. I found the lovely French antibacterial nose spray since now Parker's nose is running, and his newly purchased asthma spray since he is wheezing ' a nouveau depuis hier soir'. Then I picked one up at a time and rocked and held them. Penelope melts into me with her big toddler baby body, as if she is trying to catch up on mom caresses and cuddles that were absent for so many months while I cared for and pleaded for her brother... She and I, both content. She is patient with me, and looks deeply into my eyes as if to say, "I know mom. I know where you've been. I know where you are going". She seems very wise and knowing. And forgiving...I placed her back in Parker's bed and I took Parker out. His joy could hardly be contained in his teeny little body. His arms and legs wiggled while he squealed, then laughed with delight. I rocked him and loved him and squeezed him...Then I placed him back in his bed with his twin, and did a crazy thing. Now that I've done it once (and it didn't break!) I will do it again... They laugh and smile with their heads touching, arms and legs intertwined...and watch and wait for my next move... I climb into bed with them! And we cuddle, confined, and happy in a cushy, warm, almost heavenly place. We all smile and thank God.
My worry subsides and I think all is well here at almost 6 am.
