But even though I don’t know the feeling of having a truly sick baby, being a mother has given me a sense of concern and empathy that I didn’t have before. I read several blogs these days and frequently I come across posts (or entire blogs) that deal with the difficulty and, yes, joy, of having a child that is somehow different – whether it be due to illness or disability or some other circumstance over which they have no control and for which they weren’t quite prepared. And reading about these parent’s lives affects me…sometimes very deeply. I don’t remember doing that before, with any other aspect of my life. I mean, sure, I felt bad for people who suffered loss or sickness or disappointment or challenge. But not like I do now. Now I really feel it.
And I hope to make something good from this new experience. Because with feeling comes motivation. Motivation to do something to make life better for someone who has less than I do or deals with more than I do. I should let this feeling challenge me to do more than run to squeeze my precious, perfect miracle girl (because it always makes me do that). Whether it’s giving an hour of my time or $20 from my bank account to a children’s related cause, really, that’s the least I can do. Because I am so blessed.
Blessed with a wonderful, caring, husband who is committed to our family and our life together. Blessed with a healthy, amazing baby girl who keeps my heart full and a smile on my face (most of the time, anyway…). Blessed in so many ways. And not that those who experience adversity and challenges with their children aren’t blessed…because I believe they are. Just as much as I am. There is blessing in the challenge even. But why not celebrate my blessings by helping make life a little easy, the future a little brighter, and the load a tiny bit lighter for a family for whom a healthy child isn’t a gift that is taken for granted?
All of this may seem a little rainbows and butterflies and warm fuzzies, I know. You know, let’s all join hands, sing “Kumbaya” and give something of ourselves. I know it probably comes off sounding like that. But sometimes rainbows are appropriate. And a few butterflies never hurt anything.