“Human happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected.”
― George Washington
(the Sheriff dressed for his arrival at home…finally)
It’s been a whirlwind of time and activity…
trying and hard as well as grateful and good.
It’s like I told Tricia the other day…when our family’s newest addition ended up in the
neonatal unit shortly after his birth, it was as if the world simply stopped and stood still.
Nothing outside that hospital mattered…
no politics
no societal or cultural idiocy
no countries
no governments
no Democrats
no Republicans
no tit for tat…
Absolutely nothing mattered but that our little guy would rally.
In hindsight, we learned that one of his lungs had collapsed and he “strangled” on amniotic fluid—
of which was suddenly realized when the “crisis” occurred while he was being kept in the nursey
following his birth.
Hence the surge of staff presence and the rapid removal to the neonatal care unit.
Add to that a few other issues that would delay circumcision for at least 6 months.
When my son and daughter-n-law returned home without a baby…
the very baby they had raced to deliver Sunday night, it was a sad arrival back home
and it was hard.
I had just returned home from having spent 4 days with them—we thought we still
has about 3 days when at midnight I got the call…
“Mother, I need ya’ll to come back, NOW!”
But how many couples experience such…?
How many parents continue to leave for the hospital only to come back home without the baby
they had left to go deliver?
It quickly put a spin of reality on birth…
something that we in the “civilized world” now take for granted.
We treat delivering a baby much as we do a trip to the dentist— a simple in and out.
100 years ago…folks knew not to take such for granted…
Perhaps it is our technological advances that have left us jaded and smug while feeling
almost infallible and indefensible to those worst-case scenarios…
situations that a century ago our grand and great grandparents knew better than to assume
that all would be well.
I learned as an educator to expect the worst, but rejoice when the success comes…
Maybe that’s why I consider myself more or less a pragmatist…
despite the fact that I claim and often cling to the positive…
I know, however, that life can change on a dime.
We were fortunate.
His initial tests came back negative and he got to come home to us late Thursday afternoon.
He weighed nearly a pound less than and was shorter in length than that of his sister,
The Mayor, when she was born nearly 15 months ago.
He lost weight in the hospital…backtracking from his birth weight.
But is slowly making a come back to the weight he arrived with.
Lanky and spindly vs a sister who was more round and full.
And speaking of the Mayor…she was a bit apprehensive on the day of her brother’s birth.
And note that face on The Mayor when she clamored up to sit by Mopie (aka “Biya”) when holding
the new Sherrif…
The Sheriff now wears a tiny monitor on his foot which measures his heart rate and oxygen levels…
And thankfully so far so good.
He’s just so tiny and seemingly frail…but I suspect that having to live under the tutelage
of his new boss, the Mayor, will require a ramp up in fortitude…
something I suspect our little Sheriff will certainly rise to occasion for…
I have no doubt…
Rejoice in the Lord always.
I will say it again:
Rejoice!
Let your gentleness be evident to all.
The Lord is near.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition,
with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:4-7
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