J really don't like it when I'm sick. I hate it when my children are sick. And when the kids are sick and I'm sick too, it's just sad. J and I decided to ring in the new year by having our asthma flare up. Happy New Year, Urgent Care. C decided to follow suit the next day by winning the diagnoses of croup and an ear infection. And with my prego-induced amnesia, I need to keep a chart on the white erase board with a list of who had what medications and when. Ay-yi-yi.
I'm not saying this simply to vent, this really does cut to the core of how I try to take care of my children- all of them. My kids and I share a nebulizer, and if we're all well, or only one of us is sick, that's no problem. Last time J and C both needed it, it was really hard to look at them, hear them both coughing and wheezing, and choose which kid got the medicine first. I'm so grateful that C isn't needing to use it this time around. She hates it so much and my gracious! is she a strong fighter. Not that her unwillingness to use it would stop me from giving her the medication she needs. But it is nice not to have to deal with that. But this time it's J and I both needing it... and I'm pregnant. So that means it isn't just me that needs the medication, its V too. If it's just me and J we're talking about here, the decision is easy for me- J gets first priority on the nebulizer. But, like in the case of New Year's Evening, I was worse than J. We both needed treatments. J has a limited understanding of my pregnancy, he's only 3. And he hates taking his bronchodilator because they make him jittery and probably give him a headache. And it takes longer to finish. And he's 3. So there's lots of "Mommy, I need hug." "No more med-sin, pwease, pwease, pwease." "No Mommy, I aw done now. I ask nicely." And of course I'm trying to say reassuring things and hold him and comfort him and promise it will all be over soon. But it's heartbreaking. And then I wonder if I'm making the right choice by giving him the first priority when I'm clearly worse off and the en utero one is dependent on my supply of oxygen.
I know this is one of those "you do the best you can" scenarios, but I wish there was a flow chart that said "if this, then this is the right answer."
Somehow, in the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder if the fact the V isn't on the outside, that she isn't such a visible, tangible reality, maybe that's why I can lump her in with myself and put us on the back burner while J takes his turn. And then my mind takes this one step further- is this why there is so much prevalence in our society of making the yet-to-be-born a lower priority? Is it because we don't see them as completely tangible? I believe that the unborn are truly vulnerable. I believe my 3 year old is pretty vulnerable too. Is this part of our society's understanding of "my body, my choice?" Does putting off my medication, that in turn directly affects my vulnerable, voiceless child, mean I am falling into a mentality that does not treat my unborn child with all due dignity? In short, is there sin involved? Obviously, I'm not intentionally making the choice to deny one child's needs in favor of another. I'm thinking more along the lines of sins of omission. Have I failed to think through my actions sufficiently and, therefore, sinned in what I have failed to do?
Lately, the concept of "sins of omission" has been cropping up in my mind. I'm sure it's an invitation to more deeply examine my conscience. That's always fun. (Insert sarcastic eye-roll here.) But I know that is how I learn to better follow Christ. How can I refuse this invitation? Sure it's uncomfortable for me. I hate finding out when I'm wrong. But without being open to growing in awareness of my choices, how can I teach my children to be open to Christ's work in their lives? It eventually goes back to meeting the needs of my vulnerable children- the ones God has given me and entrusted to my care. Sometimes I'm struck by the weight of this responsibility. S and I have to take care of their bodies and souls- plus our own.
God-willing, the kids and I will be better soon and hopefully E will dodge the proverbial bullet on this round of cooties. I'm probably going to ask my doctor to write us a script for a second nebulizer.
And I guess S and I will have to wait until we're all better to celebrate our anniversary. Sigh... I'm blessed to be married to a very caring and very understanding man.
I'm not saying this simply to vent, this really does cut to the core of how I try to take care of my children- all of them. My kids and I share a nebulizer, and if we're all well, or only one of us is sick, that's no problem. Last time J and C both needed it, it was really hard to look at them, hear them both coughing and wheezing, and choose which kid got the medicine first. I'm so grateful that C isn't needing to use it this time around. She hates it so much and my gracious! is she a strong fighter. Not that her unwillingness to use it would stop me from giving her the medication she needs. But it is nice not to have to deal with that. But this time it's J and I both needing it... and I'm pregnant. So that means it isn't just me that needs the medication, its V too. If it's just me and J we're talking about here, the decision is easy for me- J gets first priority on the nebulizer. But, like in the case of New Year's Evening, I was worse than J. We both needed treatments. J has a limited understanding of my pregnancy, he's only 3. And he hates taking his bronchodilator because they make him jittery and probably give him a headache. And it takes longer to finish. And he's 3. So there's lots of "Mommy, I need hug." "No more med-sin, pwease, pwease, pwease." "No Mommy, I aw done now. I ask nicely." And of course I'm trying to say reassuring things and hold him and comfort him and promise it will all be over soon. But it's heartbreaking. And then I wonder if I'm making the right choice by giving him the first priority when I'm clearly worse off and the en utero one is dependent on my supply of oxygen.
I know this is one of those "you do the best you can" scenarios, but I wish there was a flow chart that said "if this, then this is the right answer."
Somehow, in the back of my mind, I can't help but wonder if the fact the V isn't on the outside, that she isn't such a visible, tangible reality, maybe that's why I can lump her in with myself and put us on the back burner while J takes his turn. And then my mind takes this one step further- is this why there is so much prevalence in our society of making the yet-to-be-born a lower priority? Is it because we don't see them as completely tangible? I believe that the unborn are truly vulnerable. I believe my 3 year old is pretty vulnerable too. Is this part of our society's understanding of "my body, my choice?" Does putting off my medication, that in turn directly affects my vulnerable, voiceless child, mean I am falling into a mentality that does not treat my unborn child with all due dignity? In short, is there sin involved? Obviously, I'm not intentionally making the choice to deny one child's needs in favor of another. I'm thinking more along the lines of sins of omission. Have I failed to think through my actions sufficiently and, therefore, sinned in what I have failed to do?
Lately, the concept of "sins of omission" has been cropping up in my mind. I'm sure it's an invitation to more deeply examine my conscience. That's always fun. (Insert sarcastic eye-roll here.) But I know that is how I learn to better follow Christ. How can I refuse this invitation? Sure it's uncomfortable for me. I hate finding out when I'm wrong. But without being open to growing in awareness of my choices, how can I teach my children to be open to Christ's work in their lives? It eventually goes back to meeting the needs of my vulnerable children- the ones God has given me and entrusted to my care. Sometimes I'm struck by the weight of this responsibility. S and I have to take care of their bodies and souls- plus our own.
God-willing, the kids and I will be better soon and hopefully E will dodge the proverbial bullet on this round of cooties. I'm probably going to ask my doctor to write us a script for a second nebulizer.
And I guess S and I will have to wait until we're all better to celebrate our anniversary. Sigh... I'm blessed to be married to a very caring and very understanding man.