sunny Saturday

What a long week! Sitting here overlooking our neighborhood on a bright, sunny day, I finally have a few moments to pause and take stock of this week. It has been the most difficult week for me since Moriah's birth; I ended up in the ER myself on Monday with a setback related to my post-Cesarean recovery, and Wednesday, we visited the ER for a second time with Moriah, who was vomitting frequently. There just seemed to be too many things to be sad about this week, and beginning to read the enormous information packet on Down Syndrome didn't help, as we are beginning to learn more about Moriah's diagnosis and wrestle often with worrying for her future.

But small graces continued to surprise this week. Friends who called. Friends who watched our boys while we ran to the ER. A friend who ran to the pharmacy to get us a better thermometer when we were worried about Moriah's temperature. Neighbors we are just beginning to know who brought supper, offered to run errands, and left bread and bagels on our porch last night. A friend who has been walking our dog nearly every day. A yummy Haitian meal delivered to our house. Friends who hung out with our boys this week, giving them a fun-filled week when Jason and I just would not have been able to. Family who have called, emailed, sent cards, and had flowers delivered. We--and mostly, I--would not have made it through this last week without the support of so many.

Also, a great gift--the birth of my new nephew to my sister Ginny and her husband, Matt. Pascal Kedrick VanDuyne was born on Wednesday and we were finally able to see him yesterday...he is so cute, and so healthy and strong--an answer to prayer after Ginny's trip to Liberia this spring and the health issues she encountered there.

This week it's been very difficult not to feel pity for ourselves, especially for Orilus and Jackson (who have been unable to hold Moriah as much as they wanted this week because of her vomitting issues) and for Moriah (who seems to have so much stacked against her). But this morning from my vantage point at our office desk, I can see our neighbor, sitting on her porch across the street, widowed with two young children. I glance at the nearby phone and remember that I need to call my friend Kori today, whose son Eddie is still not recovered from his bone marrow transplant three years ago and who has spent the week intubated in the ICU. I look at our calendar and see that tomorrow, our friends whose son has Down Syndrome will be visiting us again, and feel sadness and gratitude, both, for their suffering, as it now illuminates our own way. All of these people remind me that in suffering, we are not alone, and that sadness and disappointment and illness are a part of the human condition. "Why NOT me?" I ask again this morning, and find again a peace of mind, and a resolve to approach a new week with more laughter and fewer tears.

And this week will be busy. We have five doctor's appointments in 4 days, traveling among 2 hospitals and 2 clinics. We so appreciate your continued prayers as we continue to learn more about Moriah; pray, too, that we will have the opportunity this week to have some good conversations with Orilus and Jackson, who have a lot of questions about Moriah's diagnosis and her upcoming surgery. Even as we tend to Moriah's needs, we are trying so hard to make sure that our sons are not feeling left behind, and need special wisdom and grace for that.

The morning is nearly over, and the neighborhood is quiet--I can hear the breeze in the trees, even, an unusual sound from our urban hilltop. Our neighbor's wooden wind chime clanks, a dog barks, and our baby sleeps as our boys enjoy a day at a waterpark with our neighbors from next door. Even here, in an unlikely neighborhood in a forgotten city, we have been surrounded by love and support, and we are grateful. Grace abounds, in the most unlikely of places.