Among the Chaos

As I sat in a chair watching Rhyse play in the Family Library at Children's DeVos Hospital I couldn't help but stare at the mayhem the Thomas the Train track set had become since our last visit a few days prior.  It is our custom to arrive at the hospital a half hour early to make a mad dash to the Meheny Terrace Bistro for a cup of decaf coffee with vanilla syrup and cream, and then to the Family Library for play time.

At our last visit, only a few days earlier, the table was all set up and a boy the same age as Rhyse was already racing Percy around the tracks.  As the two boys jockeyed for position around the various structures they quickly figured out a sharing system that allowed them both to play with the same train. Of course most of the trains had long since disappeared, leaving only Mr. Percy.

So on this day, with a scattered, broken up mess, Rhyse had no idea what to do with it. He walked around and around the table eagerly trying to find two connected pieces to put Percy, but found none. The crane, the bridge, the mail station, the stop signs and the tunnels were all amiss. Unable to find order among the chaos Rhyse gave up and walked away.

The whole scene--the mess, the brokenness, the hopelessness--created quite the picture of our early days with Rhyse.

In the beginning every word, every diagnosis, every specialty represented was a maze of emotions.  Our lives--the lives of all who have medically complex children--lose order, beginnings and endings.  Dates become significant not based on celebrations, but trauma and tragedy.  Seasons are earmarked good, better or best based on number of hospitalizations, surgeries or complications from sicknesses.  And fighting for balance a losing battle.

As time goes by we are changed, our kids are changed, and we hope others along the way are changed. Piece by piece, moment by  moment we find interlocking tracks to put together, and are able to move forward.

The  hard part for me is that the track will never be finished, the pieces never put perfectly in order.  At the end of the day he's still Rhyse, medically fragile.  The new diagnoses have yet to slow down, and some days the brokenness and hopelessness threaten my emotions.  The good news is we do have some tracks laid down, a definite direction, and much, much joy along the journey.  Even when that wretched crane picks us up and puts us somewhere we don't want to be, still we move forward!

The Christmas season is well under way, and yet I have nothing in the way of gifts.  Usually by October things are arriving in the mail and stuffed in various  hiding spots to await wrapping night.  But this year I find myself so thankful just for having this little family I haven't been in the shopping mood.  However I don't think my kids will enjoy just "being thankful!"  So I had best get thinking!

Blessed to be a mom, no matter what.