tsunami

Pain. The first wave of nausea did not break upon the shores but heaved and the swell became my tsunami of pregnancy. Weakness, weight loss, relinquish the plan. My plan. Hopes of days of wonder and enjoying and finding pleasure to be tucked away in the mother's heart.
IV's, Er visits, hospitalizations, home health nurses and isolation before the infant revealed his beautiful face. And when he was delivered, I knew I would die for him. And I have.
The death and the pain I have born for this one.
Visits to doctors, audiologists, appointments with respiratory specialists, guidance counsellors, teachers, testing. Playing Sherlock Holmes to uncover his pearl and puzzle. Attending to his needs, emotions, questions. It feels like the tsunami waves hit again. Again.
I am not the mother who watches as the son is washed out to sea in the undertow. I am the mother cleaved herself to the Cross, refusing to release either son or the wooden edifice. If he cannot cling, I will.
"Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him."
The tsunami, the labor of bearing sons in this stormy world with souls displaced and meant for God alone, continues.

The Days are Long, The Years are Short

This week, my first born was accepted to college. In Minnesota, juniors and seniors in high school have the opportunity to take college classes and receive credit on their high school transcript, while reducing college expense. We have a wonderful set up through YEAH Academy. The college professors and adjunct professors teach at the Academy. While the content is college level, the high school participants are not distracted by the world of older students.
And so, spring semester, my son will carry eight college credits in addition to high school math, chemistry, literature, and geography. His friends have started and he is a semester behind them. Quite and acheivement for a kid who hasn't 80% of his hearing. He has not completed his drivers' permit test and I can feel he is chomping at the bit to "get caught up." I have tried to help him to move forward at his pace, not the standard the world sets, yet I remember how significant it is to be on track with friends. I don't yet feel the pull to keep him close- as some parents. This young man is high needs and I feel like the sooner he is more independant the betteer it will be for all of us. Yet, it is hard to picture the day when I move him to some new address.
My husband asked what kind of vehicle I would like to drive when we next purchase one. It would have to be big enough to carry people and cargo, as we'll be moving kids to and from college I said. Not something small? he asked. No we still need to make decisions based on the needs of the kids. It will all come to an end soon enough. Our kids will be gone, and with boys, we'll be lucky to hear from them once a week. But for right now, we're busy, not with diapers, but with college choices, learning to drive, constant reminders about homework and trying not to push them out the door despite cantankeroous behavior on both the parents' and teen's part.

When I had the priviledge of caring for my Grandma while she was dying, I asked her, "Grandma, you had eleven kids, 68 grandchildren and twenty-five great grand children. Did you ever think so many people would come from you?"

Her replay, "I never though about it. I just did it."

I never considered that we would actually make it this far. My husband and I celebrate eighteen years of marriage tomorrow. My oldest son will be a junior in high school. We have homeschooled for twelve years. ( I know, if oldest is junior, how does that add up to twelve years? It is for another story.) My husband has been unemployed for over two years and yet we miraculously pay the mortgage every month. I gave up a rewarding career. I guess I am like my grandma.