Thirty minutes of wonderful...

This past week, I was sick. The kind of sick where you moan to friends and family about how you might die and think that possibly no one in the history of anyone has ever felt so sick. But, then, I got better. I did not die. I was not, in fact, as sick as anyone has ever been. 

That always makes me think of my mother. 

Who did die. 

Who was as sick as anyone should ever be. 

 

My mom got sick when I was seven. But, truthfully, she had never been a very healthy person. She struggled with asthma and was just a very sickly child. She didn't marry my dad until she was 29 years old and according to him, she started angling for a baby that very day. She wanted to be a mother more than anything. In some ways, her prayers were answered. I was born on their first wedding anniversary. 

But, it was not uncomplicated. Her doctors told her that she came very close to not being around at all anymore. He mentioned that her pregnancy, my very existence, had taken about ten years off her life. He suggested she not try it again. And, so, she didn't. My dad had a vasectomy and she embraced the life she had with me, her only child. 

My mother was never well. She did not have the kind of disease that you get well from. She had the kind of disease you die from. That is sobering to me. Especially when I've had a few days to experience what it feels like to lay in bed, unable to care for your family. The days after I started to feel better, I just moved and moved and moved. I stayed up late, I got up early. I felt alive. And, with that feeling comes pain. Because I GET to GET well. And my mother didn't. 

But, if it's true. If I did cost her ten years. If my being here made her time here that much shorter. I hope she knows, I am completely determined to make sure that her thirty minutes of wonderful didn't lead to a lifetime of nothing special. I will breathe in and out. I will hug my children. I will bring honor to her name. I will be certain her thirty minutes count. 

.((God, I hope you've seen Steel Magnolias))

Plan A

Lately, I've been seeing lots of commercials for the birth control option called Plan B. I'm sure you've heard of it. Sometimes it's known as it's less friendly sounding nickname, The Morning After Pill. Yep, it's a pill that can be purchased from any drug store without a prescription that may or may not stop a pregnancy from taking hold after there is a failure in your normal birth control method. Now, maybe that's a condom that broke, a pill that was forgotten, an IUD that fell out, or just a lapse in judgement that resulted in no prevention at all. But, there you have it, Plan B. 

Now, for me, this is a very personal subject, as, our oldest child is the result of one failed incident with birth control. One. That's it. That's all it takes. How many times have we heard that said? But, when you're the one living it, it feels very different. 

You see, we knew our predicament. We knew about the failure and we decided to do nothing but wait and see. I was aware of our options and still, we did nothing. I was terrified, but I truly believe we serve a God that has plans far greater than my own. 

All that said, I don't think less of others who have used Plan B. I'm not sure I have ever felt as scared as I did in those few weeks as we waited and wondered. The idea of having a way out sounded pretty darn good, actually. But, somehow, deep down, I just knew it wasn't the right decision and luckily, I was in love with a man who felt the same. I don't even think of it as a case of dealing with the consequences of your action. Ack, consequences. How can anyone call a blessed little baby a consequence? No, I think for me, it was simply a matter of letting the cards fall where they may. And, fall they did...

One "failure" resulted in one great success. He is smart and wickedly funny. He is kind and his compassion takes my breath away. He is athletic and strong. He is exactly what I needed to grow up. He is a reason greater than myself. He is the best of his father and the best of me all put together into one rockstar of a kid. He is 12 years old and man, oh man, let me tell you, our son is living proof that sometimes, Plan A is just what you need in life. Sometimes, Plan A is exactly right.