As the Autumn leaves fall, and we begin to spend much more time indoors, the Elisabeth Elliot quote “When you don’t know what to do next, just do the thing in front of you” has been rattling around in my mind. I heard it for the first time some years ago and it resonated with me, especially during my senior year in college. It helped me push through some of my busiest times: working two jobs, writing a senior thesis, and keeping up with all my other classes. Now, after having Shirley, I’ve found that it has been harder for me to apply in my everyday life.
Shirley has been improving by leaps and bounds over the past 4 months. Not only her feeding, but also her cognitive capabilities and physical strength. A friend of mine (who also has a CHD kiddo) calls these periods “ability spurts” and I think it’s the perfect term.
Her current ability spurt is a sharp contrast to the first several months following her open-heart surgery, when Shirley seemed to be stagnant. When She finally began to progress, it was extremely slow. She had a feeding tube (NG), and my life was a blur of tube feedings, tube replacements, dressing changes, pumping, calorie counting, syringes, medications, blow outs, and spit ups (Shirley struggled with intense reflux).
During this time, I noticed something I had not expected to see in me. My whole life I had looked forward to being a mom, but now that I was, I struggled with being present and enjoying my child. I found it difficult to be content. I kept looking forward impatiently to that next major milestone or goal. I would try to celebrate the small victories, but it was difficult when the road ahead still seemed so long. I would tell myself that once Shirley’s reflux was under control, or she started taking a bottle, or weaned off a certain amount of medications, that things would calm down and I’d be able to focus on the present and really pour myself into my sweet girl like I had always planned. I would create timelines and careful strategies as to how Shirley would get where I wanted her to be. When, despite my best efforts, sweat, and tears, she did not meet those goals in the time my mind had allotted for her, I viewed it as a failure. The weight of those failings rested heavily on my shoulders. I wanted, pleaded, and prayed for Shirley to be the child who defied the odds, who amazed her doctors and therapists, but for a long time it just wasn’t that way… and I really, really struggled with that.
One would think, after all of her recent accomplishments, that I would be able to sit back, take a breath, and enjoy her many victories. And she has had MANY victories: she actually started breastfeeding at eight months, and surprised everyone when she began eating solely by mouth at nine and a half months (HUGE!), she can feed herself, drink out of an open cup, she’s mobile. She has leaped over many of the hurdles I used to lay awake at night worrying about, but I find myself still struggling. My mind immediately moving ahead to a different issue, another far-off obstacle. When Shirley started eating without her tube back in December, I instantly started thinking about how/when we could wean her from the new feeding medication (which we are only just beginning to wean now). I also began to dwell on her gross motor skills and how far behind she was in that area. The nagging feeling that any, perhaps all, of Shirley’s delays are a direct reflection of my inability to care for her as a mother is terribly hard to shake. Even after Shirley’s remarkable improvements, the weight of disappointment presses down on me and I often feel helpless to do anything about it.
Over the past couple weeks, I have been reminded (for the umpteenth time) of the above quote. It is alright to be at-a-loss sometimes, it is okay for me not to know what to do. It is alright because I’m not the one writing Shirley’s story. I don’t need to be feeling this guilt. I don’t need to crumble under this heavy weight of inadequacy. I don’t know what God has planned for my girl, but He gives me a very tangible way to demonstrate my trust in Him and to do “His will” so to speak. I need only to “do the thing in front of me.” In my case, that is care for and nourish this beautiful creation He has entrusted to me. It means feeding her, bathing her, comforting her, teaching her, and simply loving her.
God has given me the noble task of motherhood. I ought to be honored... and humbled. When I wallow in my failings as a mother, I am actually demonstrating my own lack of faith. I am troubled because I think my way, what I have constructed in my mind, is better than God’s design for me and my family. I don’t have control over Shirley’s growth or abilities, it’s not up to me when she learns to eat or to crawl. Just as I cannot take responsibility for her recent accomplishments, I really cannot beat myself up every time she is stagnating either. I’m not saying that I will no longer do my best to help her improve, of course I will! I’m just saying that whether or not she progresses, no matter my efforts, I am not in control. I must give up this mad idea that I know what is best, and just do the work that is set before me, trusting that God will equip me for the job. He is good. He loves me and He loves Shirley, He is working everything together for His glory and our good. My earthly plans, ultimately, do not matter.
I will continue to work diligently and give all that I have to support Shirley in her development. She will go through ability spurts, and she will undoubtedly go through periods of no-progress or perhaps even regression. When that happens and I am at a loss, instead of feeling guilty or hopeless, I will simply do the thing in front of me. Even if that thing is merely wiping a tear from her little face, or changing a sagging diaper.
- Brianna
Comments