A Poem

The Special Mother by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressure and a couple by habit. This year nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children.
Did you ever wonder how these mothers are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth Selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation.
As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew."
"Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia."
"Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a handicapped child."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel."
"But does she have the patience?" asks the angel. "I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off she'll handle it."
"I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of it's own. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."
"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you." God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."
The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?" God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive.
Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see--ignorance, cruelty, prejudice--and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life Because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side." "And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air. God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

So, I've been really down lately and I saw this poem posted on another blog. It's just a simple reminder to me that God chose me for a reason to be Autumn's mom. There are days that I don't feel up the task before me and then I am filled with guilt that I don't want to do it another day. I feel guilt that Madison and Gage will not have a "normal" childhood anymore like no more vacations until Autumn is off the vent. I'm struggling with accepting the vent--I hate the vent but it is what keeps my daughter alive everyday so it is a love/hate relationship. I'm trying to come to terms and accept it--I know she won't be on it forever but EVERYTIME we go anywhere and have to unload ALL her equipment I say to James--"Do you really think we can do this for the next 4-5 years?" He always says--yes-we have 5 months down and only 4.5 to go. Ugh! I know God wants to show me something through this before he wants to heal Auutmn but I just don't feel like learning right now. I want to be stubborn and tell Him that I can accept the trach and SB but not the vent. It is even more frustrating that she does great for a few days and then the next she will not do well. I'm even getting to the point where I don't want to go anywhere or see "healthy" kids because it makes me realize just how far behind Autumn is--it's like if I can't see it then I don't have to face it. Most babies are cooing and rolling at her age and she can't even hold her own head up and I want SO bad to hear my baby's voice. Okay, now I can't stop crying. I look at Autumn though and see a perfect baby and I just want to be able to take her places and not have to load up her entire room to go anywhere. I know this is not want God wants at this time and I am learning patience and faith and perseverance. I hate growth. We get to go back to church in the morning and I am actually dreading it even though I miss it. I know people will ask about her and I hate us still being a family of four when we go somewhere and not all 5 of us together. Anyways, that is my pity party for the day. Now it's time to pray for my daily strength and to love on my 3 beautiful kids all day. I am so blessed!