Miracles.

Miracles...

I have to wonder if they truly exist. Why would I question the power of an omniscient being creating such things when I myself, by all accounts, just experienced one? I guess I question the validity of miracles because I don't understand the selection process. If God is up there, watching over each of us, why does he say "Put Bob on the miracle list but leave Stacey off of it"? Isn't Stacy just as deserving as Bob? Did she not pray enough, long enough, call in enough Godly favours?  Why does Stacy lose a person she loves while Bob gets to keep his...

"Because God works in mysterious ways" seems like a bullshit answer if I ever heard one. Tragedy and pain is supposed to teach us some sort of lesson or so the theory goes. Anytime you allow yourself to love a person with your whole heart, with your whole being, you are placing yourself on the line. I forced myself to bond with Preston despite my fear I might lose him. I forced myself to study his face, and the color of his eyes, and the sound of his cry. I forced myself to love him with such veracity that the loss of him would have devastated me. But I couldn't let myself waste one moment with him. And so I have learned to do the same with my other kids. A lesson can be found when your child is ill, when there is still hope...but what about when a mother is forced to endure the most terrible thing imaginable...where is the lesson in death?

When Preston was at his sickest. When the doctors referred to him as "extremely frail", a "failure to thrive", and told me he was in "congestive heart failure" I nearly broke from the fear of losing him. When he was weighed at three weeks of age and it was discovered he weighed less than he did the day he was born I cried harder than I have my entire life. It became real that day. My step mom was taking care of my kids that fated appointment and when I walked through the door and she asked me how it went... all I could say was "not good" before bursting into tears and sobbing on her shoulders. And then my family began making plans to visit and to take care of Gabe and Edie, and I knew they were thinking the same thing...that I was going to lose him. That was almost harder...knowing I wasn't overreacting...knowing that the other people I loved were preparing to catch me as I fell. But then one small "miracle" after another began to occur, and slowly Preston began to gain weight, he began to thrive, and at his two month cardiology appointment the biggest miracle of all was bestowed upon us and I was so grateful, and I still am.

The truth is I feel lucky because I am lucky. But I also feel sad. I feel sad because I know so many women who over the years have lost their children. And I have to ask where are their miracles? Where is their hope? Where are their Preston's?

Why was I on the miracle list? And why aren't they?