Herein lies my completely chaotic postings about the delights and delirium of family living: Steve, Sarahbeth, and our three little Spazettes. I write about anything that spills out of my brain, so it's not always that interesting. Also note: If you require complete sentences from your authors, this isn't the blog for you. If you're still here after all the disclaimers, welcome to our little section of the world. It's a great place to live and be.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
From Susanne, about Baby Ryan:
Ryan is struggling. Please continue praying. His brain is still reacting to the trauma, and he is having trouble breathing. We appreciate all of your words, prayers and thoughts...we will continue to update you on his status. God is faithful.
With the constant hum of thoughts of Ryan in the backdrop of our life, I keep looking over at Jack, his face almost unrecognizable. I am grateful to have only this temporary injury, when it could be so much worse. And yet, it pulls at my maternal stirrings so deeply. It disturbs me to see how quickly something can happen to my baby boy.
He assures me it doesn't hurt much, and he's patient through my multitude of kisses and hugs and "I love yous." On the one hand, I am so proud of his calm confidence and strength. He stares intrigued into the mirror and watches the progression of bruising like his typical scientist self. He tells me he can open his eye at least a millimeter now, with a voice of triumph.
On the other hand, though, I want him to feel safe to be scared or bothered. And as I write this, perhaps he *does* feel safe...and just doesn't need those emotions right now?
It's been a contemplative day. I am feeling raw and open and grateful and scared for Susanne. I watched Darfur Now and was reminded by how much I NEED to use my raw feelings to change and shape things. To bring something out of sadness. I don't always know how to do that or it doesn't always work. But I am feeling that sense exploding out of me.
If you haven't read this article about water safety and children, please take a moment to read it now. It's called "Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning."