This is my child.
This is my child, who I have prayed over while he grew in my
belly, perfect and beautiful, specially chosen by God to reflect His glory and
grace in his brokenness, his imperfect body.
This is my child, who I have cried over, who I have agonized
over, who I have laid beside and begged to breathe, to fight to live, as a
fragile newborn.
This is my child, who I have hit my knees over, time and
time again, begging God to spare him, to let us keep him and love him.
This is my child, who I have willed to eat, to take
medicine, to crawl, to walk, to talk, to push himself beyond what anyone
thought he should be capable of.
But those days are just a shadow now.
Today, this is my child, who now runs through my halls,
having pillow fights with his sister and daddy, and riding his tricycle, and
climbing and digging and laughing.
This is my child, who lives every inch of his life with more
passion than most people a lifetime older than him.
This is my child, who talks of having a dog, and going to
kindergarten and playing soccer someday.
This is my child, who loves and adores his sister with every ounce of his being.
This is my child, who’s only question last night as we
talked of procedures and hospitals was “but how will we get out of the
hospital?”
So when you ask me how I’d doing, facing tomorrow’s cath and
next month’s surgery, I will smile and say “I’m fine.” As a believer, as a
daughter of God, I am fine. I know
NOTHING is going to happen tomorrow or next month that He does not know about,
that He has not ordained. I know He loves my son far more than his father and I
could ever imagine.
But I am a mother. And this is my child. My arms ache when
he is at home with the sitter and I am at work and I cannot run to hug him. How
much harder it will be when it is not just a sitter, and a job, that separates
us. But an anesthesiologist, and a doctor, and an OR…and countless machines and
life giving medications.
I know this, all of this, is necessary for my son to have
the best shot he can at the life God has called him to. We have always known that, since before we ever even met our sweet Bodie in person. But my mother’s heart
breaks over this. So tomorrow and on July 29th, and every day in
between and following, please pray for my son, for his heart, for his mind, for
his spirit. And for my mother’s heart.
Because this is my child. And he is my whole world.
<3 Praying for you and Bodie! ~the Borgesons
ReplyDeleteSending love and prayers your way! Staci Skowronek
ReplyDeleteGod has amazing plans for Bodie! He will pull through like a champ just wait and see. You are such an amazing mother! God will be Bodie every step of the way he will send his guardian Angels to surround Bodie while he is getting his Cath and work through the Drs hands to make this heart Cath a huge succes! Everything will be okay. I put in a prayer request at church for him
ReplyDelete{{{HUG}}} I couldn't help but tear up while reading this Amy. <3 you and your precious family. I will continue to hold all of you tightly in my prayers in the coming days/weeks/months ahead as Bodie goes through the fontan.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post! praying for your family as you prepare for his surgery in the coming month and then afterward as he recovers.
ReplyDeleteprayers now and always, Amy...
ReplyDeleteWow, this is the most beautiful post. I know the next few months will be so difficult but I also know our boys. If anyone should be worried, it is the doctors because our boys are feisty little fighters and they will not only rock the Fontan... they will show the hospital staff who is boss. <3 Love you mama.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written, Amy. <3 Hugs, Love, and Prayers.
ReplyDeleteso lovely and relatable. best wishes to you all during this time!
ReplyDeletesending much love, amy. i will be thinking of you and bodie and dusk and sierra all day tomorrow. bodie's got this!!!!
ReplyDelete