I started writing a blog at the beginning of the month. It was good. I wrote about how my really sick, malnourished, neglected children are teaching me about choosing joy. Then I moved and got really super busy in house where I had no internet (still don't). Then when I started a blog about how my life in the last week and a half has started to resemble the housekeeper from Downton Abbey and how I kind of like it.
Since moving to the big city I have gotten a reality check of what exactly being a nurse in a critical care home means. The first night (and the next two days) I spent in isolation with a 4 lbs. 2 month old with a bacterial/fungal infection. She was being fed every 2 hours but I am a new mom and woke every time she made a sound (she has since been admitted to the hospital and is doing very well). Comparatively the rest of our kids here are relatively stable. A few upcoming surgeries and the occasional cough/cold but nothing life threating. Or so I thought.
Then today reality bit and it bit hard.
It started out like any other morning. No water coming in the pipes and me climbing up to the roof to turn on the pipes to empty the storage tank. Normal everyday stuff... The babies were being bathed and fed, with no doctors or hospital visits scheduled for the day. I was drinking my chai, reading my book and enjoying a slow morning when one of the ayahs comes running full speed into the room screaming for me to come upstairs. Not being able to understand the fast forward Telugu I assumed that the water was overflowing from the tank onto the roof (not the first time it has happened). But on the stairs I was met by two more ayahs who pulled me up the stairs to the room where our children are staying. There I was met by a sight that I have prayed and prayed and prayed I would never ever, ever have to see. Our sweet baby girl Rosemary was unresponsive and blue.
If I never again in my life have to do CPR on a 3 month old it will be too soon. If someone were to promise me that I will never have to stand in an emergency room and watch a doctor put a needle into the bone of my baby I will throw them a party And I am asking God to please never again have me fill out a death certificate on one of my children.
"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21)
This verse is pure and simple fact. There is no room to question. I will never know why he gave us Rosemary for two months, time enough to make her nice and chubby, only to take her away. I will never know how Rosemary died. I will never get to know the beautiful content (if not a little bit serious :-) little girl Rosemary would have been. He is God and I am not. No questions.
Instead I must choose to praise. I am praising God that is abandoned little girl was loved well for the last two months. I am praising Him that I got the opportunity to serve one of His special children. I am praising God that He saw fit to bless us with Rosemary at all. But most of all I am praising God that tonight that a precious little Princess is being held cradled in the arms of her Daddy completely healed.
"God made the ability to feel pain. He didn't have to, you know. He made the ability to feel pain and He also made it possible to feel joy. Should I hate Him for allowing one and praise him for allowing the other? God knew what he was doing. I may not always agree, but that is part of what respecting His authority means." - Dee Henderson The Protector.
Since moving to the big city I have gotten a reality check of what exactly being a nurse in a critical care home means. The first night (and the next two days) I spent in isolation with a 4 lbs. 2 month old with a bacterial/fungal infection. She was being fed every 2 hours but I am a new mom and woke every time she made a sound (she has since been admitted to the hospital and is doing very well). Comparatively the rest of our kids here are relatively stable. A few upcoming surgeries and the occasional cough/cold but nothing life threating. Or so I thought.
Then today reality bit and it bit hard.
It started out like any other morning. No water coming in the pipes and me climbing up to the roof to turn on the pipes to empty the storage tank. Normal everyday stuff... The babies were being bathed and fed, with no doctors or hospital visits scheduled for the day. I was drinking my chai, reading my book and enjoying a slow morning when one of the ayahs comes running full speed into the room screaming for me to come upstairs. Not being able to understand the fast forward Telugu I assumed that the water was overflowing from the tank onto the roof (not the first time it has happened). But on the stairs I was met by two more ayahs who pulled me up the stairs to the room where our children are staying. There I was met by a sight that I have prayed and prayed and prayed I would never ever, ever have to see. Our sweet baby girl Rosemary was unresponsive and blue.
If I never again in my life have to do CPR on a 3 month old it will be too soon. If someone were to promise me that I will never have to stand in an emergency room and watch a doctor put a needle into the bone of my baby I will throw them a party And I am asking God to please never again have me fill out a death certificate on one of my children.
"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21)
This verse is pure and simple fact. There is no room to question. I will never know why he gave us Rosemary for two months, time enough to make her nice and chubby, only to take her away. I will never know how Rosemary died. I will never get to know the beautiful content (if not a little bit serious :-) little girl Rosemary would have been. He is God and I am not. No questions.
Instead I must choose to praise. I am praising God that is abandoned little girl was loved well for the last two months. I am praising Him that I got the opportunity to serve one of His special children. I am praising God that He saw fit to bless us with Rosemary at all. But most of all I am praising God that tonight that a precious little Princess is being held cradled in the arms of her Daddy completely healed.
"God made the ability to feel pain. He didn't have to, you know. He made the ability to feel pain and He also made it possible to feel joy. Should I hate Him for allowing one and praise him for allowing the other? God knew what he was doing. I may not always agree, but that is part of what respecting His authority means." - Dee Henderson The Protector.
