Memory Monday : The Best is Yet to Come

Part of a series telling Veronica’s story.  I’ve previously written about Veronica’s first day, the first steps in a quest for answers, and going home.

After my daughter was born, the quest for answers began. Her life in the NICU was filled with tests and scary prognoses, and as soon as she was stable enough we petitioned to bring her home. The doctor appointments didn’t end, but the daily barrage of speculation did. While things were much quieter at home, the questions remained, and the reality of raising a child with special needs sunk in.

My daughter needed oxygen continually, there was a big ugly oxygen tank in stark juxtaposition next to her sweet cradle, and a small, portable version that we took with us whenever we went out. We had home visits from a special care nurse, and started getting involved with therapies and programs for children with disabilities. And there were LOTS of doctor appointments. Veronica didn’t sleep much, she was so tiny, and was not gaining weight quickly. There was so much to worry about, so many things that I couldn’t understand. My mind wandered trying to find the why and how of it all. There was a lot to take in, but I found great sanctuary in our new home. With large windows and a mountain view, I would open the front door and back doors and let the warm summer breeze soothe me and bring me some sort of peace.

It was in quiet times that I reflected on what had happened over the past few weeks, and what our future held. My thoughts and emotions ranged from grief, to joy, to fear. I held my little miracle in my arms and loved her with every part of me. I loved her so much it hurt. It tore me apart thinking about what her life might look like and where this journey would go. I grieved the loss of what I thought a child’s future should look like. And I tried to figure out what I did wrong.

These thoughts were never very far away. I remember one specific moment, maybe a couple of days after we came home from the hospital, I went out to run some errands. On my way home I was considering the “whys” of everything. Although I had wondered it before, I profoundly remember saying out loud to myself, “What if there’s really not a God?” Everything I knew and had believed suddenly felt they had no foundation and I felt very alone.

It’s funny how distinct this memory is for me. I was driving into the entrance of our neighborhood as those feelings hit, then suddenly I was flooded by a wave of thoughts that surprised and overwhelmed me. I saw the beautiful mountains and thought about all of creation and how perfect and wondrous it all is. I drove up to my driveway and saw the home that we had moved into only 3 weeks before Veronica was born. It was such a blessing: spacious and bright, with big windows. We hadn’t planned on moving, it all just kind of happened. I thought about the great health insurance plan that we had decided to purchase years before that covered everything we now needed. I remembered our business that had only started 6 months prior that allowed my husband and I to work from home with a comfortable income. As these thoughts consumed me it became clear that none of these things were by accident. They were opportunities placed before us to provide a foundation for this journey. God was real and He had a plan. Veronica’s challenges may have surprised me, but they did not surprise God. That was all I needed to know in that moment.

I’d like to say that I rested there and moved forward with confidence and grace, but honestly I’m not sure ever gotten that down completely. As a parent you always want the best for your child, and although I see all of the beauty and light in Veronica, I still want her little body healthy and well, and I have moments that that really pull at my heart. But when I look at that beautiful sweet face with the mischievous grin, I feel complete inside and am reminded that everything’s going to be OK. What would I tell younger self back in those days? The best is yet to come.