Fortune or Faith?
The past two weeks have been filled with drama. I even found myself asking Him why (like, why couldn’t he just give me one, one healthy child), and believing that perhaps fortune and feng shui had something to do with our “bad luck”. Perhaps we conceived them at the wrong time, month, year, at an inauspicious residence, or perhaps Loi and I were the unlucky pair, with our astrological signs not matching. Justin had come down with some sort of cold around Halloween when we had tried so hard to protect him with the constant handwashing and antibacterial sanitizer lathering. Visitors were only allowed to see him through a window, or not at all. I mean, I was pretty extreme. But, when he started rejecting (yes, rejecting. He cried the moment the nipple even touched his lips) the bottle, I started to really freak out. Every hospital discharge instruction we ever received indicated that when feeding became an issue, we must assume that either it is congestive heart failure or abdominal obstruction. I rushed him to the pediatrician–twice. The first time he was diagnosed with acid reflux and his Zantac medication was increased. A week later, still not improving, the doctor attributed it to a cold. Now, only time and patience will tell. Within the same week, Nathan contracted a finger infection that I accidentally popped oozing, foul smelling green pus from. While I desperately tried to feed a fussy baby (every hour now), Nathan sat on the floor scratching with his half gone fingernail, with me begging him to stop so that he would not cause an infection in his skin. I have a child with a heart condition, and a child with eczema. We naively thought we’d get a break the second time around after a hopeless two year battle with the autoimmune disease. Anger and frustration boiled in the pit of my stomach…I wanted a reason, an explanation for me having these “sick” children. Feng shui seemed like a readily accessible explanation that I wanted so desperately to believe…I just wanted something to definitively say, “Yeah, it’s your fault. This is what you did wrong.” But, does it even matter? As I observed couples unable to conceive, marriages falling apart, people diagnosed with cancer, I realized that I have the opportunity to hug, kiss, hold my children, a husband that loves and adores me, and my health to care for my family. I have more than most and I feel blessed for it. The fact that my children are not “perfect” and healthy only gave me reason to be stronger–for them, for me. I refuse to blame this “misfortune” on luck, because truly, it is a blatant blessing. My babies have made me open my eyes to the sacredness of life. They have made Loi and me love more, give more, aware more. It just hit me one day of how I would display my compassion to the ones in need (as an example to my children): I would consciously perform one selfless deed a day for those in need. So far, I donated $200 to a poor convent in Vietnam that exists to help the poor and the orphaned, bought a RED shirt from the Gap to support the fight against AIDS in Africa, donated to a charity set up to help pregnant teenagers keep their babies (Pro-Life) while going to school and work, and lent out a hand to a friend recovering from heartbreak. These are small gestures, I know. But, it is all I can afford to do at this point between the two little monsters. Someone once told me that the smallest deed is greater than the greatest intentions. There have been many causes and community services that I have always said I’d become involved with. But, until I’m released from this lockdown (kidding! sort of…), I will do what I can when I can. Justin taught me–live life like there’s no tomorrow!