I never knew being a parent would mean calling 911 for your little girl.
More than once.
I never knew being a parent meant that I would administer Valium myself.
Or that I would hear words jumbling out of my mouth that made no sense to the average person who didn’t have a medical degree.
No, that was for other people.
Other parents.
Feeling flushed with anger as the entire emergency ward stops in their tracks…visitors, nurses and doctors alike as they wheel a bitty girl in.
Eyes to the floor. Knowing they know you are the mama. Feeling their shock and hearing their gasps at the teeny body lifeless and an abnormal shade of blue.
Hating them. Wishing they just went back to work. Back to whoever they were visiting.
Anything.
Keeping calm until they say they have to intubate her because she’s purple.
Knowing that was the moment to step outside and wait, because surely I would lose it then.
Wishing the nurses didn’t look at me with pity and thank me for being so calm.
Just on the outside sweetheart.
Angry that they wanted to put their arms around me.
As if they were my friends.
I know they were pure of heart and being kind.
But I didn’t want kind. I didn’t want pity. I didn’t want diplomacy.
I wanted my girl to stop seizing.
I wanted her to pink back up.
I wanted to wash the vomit out of her hair.
I wanted all of those hideous tubes and needles far far away from her sweet body.
I never knew being a parent meant sitting in uncomfortable chairs weary to the bone and looking at your husband beside you.
A picture of that family. The family that has a child with special needs. The family that doesn’t go to the emergency room only for split chins and broken bones.
The family that lives this life.
This crazy, unpredictable life. Where an entire day can change course in a split second.
She always looks impossibly small in that big hospital bed.
I will never get used to it.
Not if we do this one million times.
I will never get used to the fact that the other two are unafraid of the fire engines and ambulances that pull up to the house. Or the uniformed men who pour through our doors.
The two littles who stand and say hello and automatically pull back into the shadows just a little bit. Because they know that Jilly is sick and mama needs to go with her too.
I never knew that when you are a parent, friends and family take on new meaning. The ones who rally around you without question. Without asking. They just do.
Who come to the house and watch the others for hours at the drop of a hat. The ones who have pizza and hot wings delivered right to your door. The ones who spend the night during Finals Week for moral support. The ones who text you just the right Bible verse, at just the right time. For surely they had no idea you were pacing the hallway chanting “Keep it together. Keep it together.”
The friends who pray pray pray. Warriors on your family’s behalf.
I never knew being a parent meant relying on others so wholly sometimes. That it isn’t just about you and your little family unit.
It’s about this big interweaved, crazy, beautiful mess of a thing. Where when one strand breaks there are countless others there to keep you from falling.
I never knew being a parent meant praising God through and through in the most impossible of situations. Knowing that to anyone else, it’s backwards and crazy and foolish. But seeing His hand so clearly in the details. So sweetly in the corners of every twist and turn of the day. And knowing that no matter what, there is love greater than you can dream of.
Because that’s how God works sometimes. In unfathomable, non-sensical, backwards ways.
To us anyway.
For there are few things sweeter than a little blonde, all bundled up in Christmas pj’s, wide awake and ready to party at midnight.
A four year old boy who crawls gingerly over to his littlest sister, kisses her head and says “So mom, how’s Jilly feeling?”
A twin sister who sobs hysterically when she realizes “Diwwy” will be sleeping in mama’s room tonight and not in her rightful spot in the same room.
Because love is the greatest of them all. And love is all you see swirling around you in moments like these.
Because sometimes I forget to see it. I forget to look. In the folding of clothes, the wiping up of stomach flu that morning, the anger that Andy was yet again leaving on business…bitterness was creeping in and burrowing itself down to make a nice cozy home in my heart.
So maybe it’s worth it in the end. Maybe it’s beautiful and lovely too.
This parenting thing.
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Jeannett, I wish I knew what to say. I saw on twitter that you were in the ER yesterday, but I didn’t want to bother you with questions. I was thinking about you and your family all night, checking for updates. All I can do is keep you all in my thoughts and let you know that I’m up here in Maryland, holding you all close to my heart.
Oh Jeannett. I wish I knew what to say, too. My thoughts are with your family. I hope Jilly is back with her siblings, soon :(
Thank you for sharing your story…I hope everyone is ok. Parenting is the hardest job in the world, and never, never what one can or ever imagine. Thinking of you and your family…
Jo-Anna
Praying for your Jill and your entire sweet family.
Cassi
I can’t even type. Choked up and praying.
We are on our way to the hospital for my husband to have a biopsy. Testing for the same thing that took his mother 8 weeks ago.
I needed this verse today.
I recently discovered your blog and happened to open up to today’s post…and I have to say I feel so broken for your sweet momma’s heart and your precious little girl. My daughter had seizures less than 12 hours after her birth and I still remember walking into the nursery to not find her in her usual spot…only to discover a nurse and her doctor hovering over her as she began seizing again. It’s the most frightening experience…but I’m grateful that’s the only time it happened. Every time she gets a fever though, that fear comes back to me of that moment. I am so so sorry – I am saying a prayer for your sweet family.
Beautifully written. (((hugs))) and prayers.
Attempting to write this through teary eyes. My heart just broke for you and your family when I read this. I am so sorry you are having to go through this. And I’m glad things are a little better now. I’ll be praying for sweet Jilly and for your family. May God keep you safe and comfort you in His arms.
Praying little Jill is doing better today!! …and Mama, Daddy, brother, and sister too!
Gods blessings be on you and your family
Oh Jeannett, I don’t even know what to say, but the bible says it perfectly. Praying for all of you today! God has you in his arms and will give you everything you need!
its so true – all of what you write — so many things don’t seem to go the way WE think they will and should — like the ones before me – there are no words – except to let you know I am wrapping you in a virtual hug – you are not alone – i understand your frustration and hurt and anger – all of it – I do! All our hope and faith and trust MUST be in Him – and I see you are putting it there – You are not alone sweet momma – He is always with you!
Thank you for sharing with us today – I will keep you and Jill and the rest of your family in my prayers!
xoTiffany
praying for you and your family, jeannett. xoxo
love you.
psalm 34:7
the angel of the lord encamps
around those who fear him, and delivers them.
tears.
so many tears.
and prayers.
and thinking that in the middle of all of this tough parenting stuff, here you are working hard to raise money for so many others that need it.
you are so, so awesome.
believe it.
Wow! thank you for sharing your heart in such a beautiful way!
We are that family too. I hope it gets easier and she feels better. I can say that over time it has gotten easier for me with the emergency medical stuff, and more peaceful, as we take the moments we can get!
Jeanette – praying that you feel the arms of Jesus wrapped tightly around your entire family. Hugs to you and sweet Jill.
You have such a way with words. I love reading your blog. I’m full of thought and emotion every time. Amazing.
oh wow. Very powerful words indeed. I will also pray for your little Jilly. Thank you for sharing.
we *hate* those horrible seizures over at our house too. my heart aches with you as there are few things worse than watching your child seize over and over again. praying for you and your family. “may the God of hope fill you with joy and peace as you trust in Him so that you will overflow with hope.” Romans 15:13
You remind me to count my blessings! My prayers to you and your babies!
My heart breaks with you – because I see so much similarities between our precious little girls. I found myself hushing my own kids because I NEEDED to read your post to find out if Jilly was okay….and then I promptly hugged them all….maybe Addie just a tiny bit more. Life is fragile – we all know that – It just sucks that {our} little kids have to suffer for us to realize it and live like it.
Prayers to you all –
Lindsay
Beautiful post. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. You make me want to be so much better than I am. I hope you feel God’s love surrounding you during these difficult times.
the back of her little head looks just like my daughter – my eyes can’t help but sting with tears. I will be praying for your family and for Jilly.
Kim
jeanette, I am so sorry. It can be one of the most difficult things ever to have a child who is sick. You are in my prayers. I love your words today. You remind me of the things that are most important of all.
love you friend.
sending mountains of prayers your way…wrapping you and your precious family with them…
Hoping Jilly is home soon…
blessings,
Jill
Lurker coming out of hiding. My little girl who is 4 just started having seizures this summer. Reading your post is like reading my mind. I never thought I would call 911 for my perfect beautiful girl, administer valium, watch her brought into the hospital on a stretcher not breathing or stare at her for days in the PICU wondering if I would ever see her run, play, talk and laugh again. I did not want this life for her or for my “perfect” family. I have just in the past week come to the place where I have “peace that passes all understanding” about our situation. God has moved and changed me more in the last 6 months, than in all of my previous 35 years. I cannot fathom life and parenting without God and his love for me, my family and my little girl. I am reminded every day that she is not mine, but God’s child. Thank you for sharing your story. Praying for your little girl and family.
praying.
You gave me such sweet encouragement and I wish I could do the same for you. I have not been where you are, but we have the same God, and He is great.
This post is so incredibly painful and beautiful to read, all at once. I love your words. That photo is positively precious.
Last night at Mass I saw someone who looked like you, and it made me really miss you and feel so sad that we’re so far away. Boo!
Anyway, I’m so glad that Jill is okay, and you are so right, it’s so often the hard things that illuminate love. I adore your sweet family!!!
I’ve never been to your blog before, found you through a link off another. My heart aches for your family, and you have reminded me to embrace, love and accept my children, my life, my family, for who they are, as they are the only ones we get. Your words really touched me. I am praying that your sweet girl is back at home, with her family around her, very very soon. Sending many prayers out for you.
I just read this.
I will be praying….for J and the mama’s heart.
wiping tears…thank you for sharing the hard stuff. thank you for pointing to our faithful, ever-present Jesus. praying for your sweet girl.
Nice post. Having kids is like taking your heart out of your body and letting it walk around the world unprotected.