Life isn't easy. Life is never going to be easy. I don't care who you are, how much money you have, what kind of education you've received, who you married....as some point in your life, it has been hard. Difficult. Utterly painful. We all struggle. We all face problems. We all have hurdles to overcome. It's what you do in the wake of that hurdle that makes or breaks you.
My defining moment was obviously Jonah. He continues to define me. I was Elijah's mom for 6 years prior to ever meeting Jonah. Elijah shaped and formed me into the kind of mother I thought I always wanted to be. Maybe. I failed. I failed in many areas on Elijah. But when I became Jonah's mother and people stared at me - I like to think, in amazement - but I really think everyone was waiting for me to fall apart. Jonah defined me. When I held him, watching him take his meager last breath, I could have curled up on that hospital floor and died, in that instant. I didn't care about anything past that moment. Jonah was gone and I was still here.
I've talked about those moments until I'm blue in the face. Everyone has heard our story a billion times and yet, I continue to tell it. Jonah's presence in my life solidified it. I can't even put it into words. Miracles happen everyday. I know this. We've all been told this. But when a surgeon tells you that your son should have never been born - you know a miracle has happened. When he shakes his head, not understanding how his heart was beating, you just brace yourself.
We all defy odds. Every life is a miracle. Every moment is something to be grateful for. In an instant, it can all change. The life you knew five minutes ago could vanish. I didn't live to watch Jonah die. Jonah didn't die so that I could live. It was the never ending cycle of a difficult life. It wasn't just something that "happened." He was given to us, to meet us, to see us and to be a part of our lives. My husband changed on that day. The people that are the closest to him know this. He struggled for several years afterwards. He wanted to forget, to soften the blow, and sometimes, just pretend he never buried a son.
Yes, it's easier to forget than to face our problems. But in that, there is no lesson learned.
Tonight, as I was sitting in my living room, my dogs alerted me that something was amiss in my front yard. I hurried outside, expecting to find a snake. I didn’t. It was a tarantula the size of Godzilla. For a moment, I thought I was in a bad sci-fi movie. I ran inside and in my true Southern manner, yelled for Elijah to grab a gun and come on. I showed him the beast, which had apparently lost a few pounds by the time Elijah arrived on the scene (Elijah was not impressed.) Elijah debated on killing it while I’m yelling “shoot it” from the safety of my front porch. One shot did not satisfy me, while I cheered Elijah on to shoot it more than five times. 8 BB’s later, a curled up dead tarantula and a psycho mother, my children learned that at times, I may need medication. The tarantula learned that he picked the wrong land to crawl across.
My point is this: I am a different mother to Elijah. I'm a different wife to Jason. And I'm becoming a new mom to Elizabeth, after the adoption. (Dec 6th! It's a girl!)
As my dad jokes, "you have a heart bigger than Texas." (Which more often than not, gets me in trouble.) I like to think I have a little bit of Jonah's heart living in me.
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