“Prayed for” A Love Story: Part I

What’s in a name?

I dreamt about you long before you ever made your presence known… before you were a speck, a blob, a wiggly squiggle, my baby boy, my little buddy… my little man. I prayed for you. I wanted you. I asked God for you… (hence the explanation of your name).

When I saw you there for the first time on the ultrasound monitor I crossed both sets of fingers and quietly rubbed my belly under the white paper smock for good luck… for both of us. This same ritualistic routine was performed in the exact same way.  at the exact same time. each.  and. every. time they waved the “magic wand” across my stomach for you to appear on the screen before me.

It was almost this time two years ago that I made a pact with you and with God. I silently prayed … or maybe I promised…  “please God please give me this child. Give me this child as he is - and I promise God I will love him, take care of him and watch over him.” It was the same contract I agreed to two years prior when your sister was still growing in my belly.

Our first 16 months together have sometimes been tough.   During the first few months you didn’t always feel good.  Sometimes I would get frustrated and your Dad would come home to find us both crying … I would be discouraged because I couldn’t help you… but despite my frustration I would always remind myself of our silent pact and my promise.

A few weeks ago you got really sick at Mimi’s house. You were only 15 months old.  We ended up staying at a hospital that is just for kids. You really liked the toys and all the buttons on the bed- but that was about it. Your Dad and I were very sad.  Joey your nurse came into our room and held my hands. She told me it was okay to cry and that I would be sad then mad and that it would be okay. I pretended like everything was fine but when Daddy went out for coffee  and you were taking a nap I locked myself in the bathroom and cried in a towel because I didn’t want anyone to see me upset… especially you.  

If and when you ever decide to finally start talking you’ll get a time out for saying “stupid”… unless it’s in reference to your pancreas. He quit working which is why you got sick… I’m still pretty angry about it. But when I get mad I remind myself of our silent pact and my promise.

You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. You have diabetes and will have it for the rest of your life. It will be a description for you, but it will not define you. It will make life very difficult at times and provide unique challenges for you to overcome. You will succeed and always rise to the occasion. You will not use your “stupid” pancreas or diabetes as a crutch or an excuse.

We will be frustrated, angry, and upset together… and it will be during these times that I remind myself of the silent pact and my promise. I will tell you “your story” the story of how I wanted you… how I prayed for you… asked God for you… the story of why your name is Saul.