So, Monday was awful, leading into an even more unbearable Tuesday. My nerves build with fear and excitement each week as it comes time to learn if all of Mihret's paperwork is finally ready to be submitted to the US Embassy. We were just waiting on the clearance from the medical department that she is OK to immigrate to the US...
Monday night, as if out of the blue, I was laying down in bed and I literally could feel Freh laying there with me, in my arms, close to my chest. I could so vividly feel her hair tickle my face and the weight of her body next to me. It brought me to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I had to wake Ben in Sten's absence and seek comfort in his big embrace. We went to Freh's room and cried together. I, rocking in her chair with "blankie" and Ben, on the floor. I spent the rest of the night weeping and praying for peace and understanding in this dark and lonely place I've come to know so well. That place, exactly Freh-shaped.
Tuesday was not much prettier. Mandatory house scrubbing to sweat the ugly out of me (luckily my little minions were much obliged to assist in the Lysol-led exorcism) My dear friends, Donna and Hannah, (two of the few who will brave the trenches of my sorrow), unaware of my ensuing meltdown, took Abe and Eli for some time away from mom. And I took Jenna to the doctor for lingering sore throat and swollen glands (another reminder that life, indeed, marches onward). Tears streamed down my cheeks all day. My eyes burned as I walked into the pediatrician's office and I was greeted by the front desk gal who, upon seeing me, immediately burst into tears of sympathy and threw her arms around me. (pause to realize the relationship that would form with someone who sees my family regularly and always with Freh in tow) And the doctor himself so kindly offered his condolences and paused to offer any help with the kids and their grief. Sweet people. God's hands. It was almost all I could bear. Rapid strep negative, thank you, God.
On to the grocery store. Third, maybe fourth call to Connie, another trusted trench-dweller. Tears. An email had come that Mihret would not be submitted on Wednesday like we had all hoped and prayed for . My grip on things was failing. Lots of salty grief negotiations falling from my cheeks as Jenna and I search the store for chocolate, chips and ice-cream. (hold your comments on the excellent lesson in emotional eating to my growing daughter. She learned of the medicinal use of chocolate on her own!) Evie Super-Friend Burge called to say she was coming over that night to do some front porch praying with me. And may or may not be bringing her prayer posse. Ok. Not gonna deny that I need it.
One thing that brings me into a panic state is walking in public, like the grocery store, and feeling so raw, so bewildered in my grief and no one seems to notice. I make eye contact, thinking hoping that they will see and understand. But it never happens and it leaves me panicked, thinking that I am so alone in my walk. And a sense of urgency to return to the comfort of home, where they ALL get it, always seems to hit just as I forget where I put my list and become equally frustrated with my inability to think straight. So I leave. Hence, the reason we can go three.full.days with no milk.
God really knew exaclty what I needed that Tuesday. After a day spent in the depths of sorrow that swings like a wild pendulum. I got home with Jenna and was graced with meeting a new friend for the first time. We talked and she wasn't offended by my tears and we connected. Thank you, Sonya :)
Kim came over to see what was happening and offer one of her ever-healing hugs. Then Beth and her girls came with tacos. All things good are smothered in cheese and salsa, right?
Allison popped by to pick up sheets an brought Brady, whom i delivered! It was so nice to hear her tell him how much I meant to her during that exciting time in her life. Hannah dropped Abe off and I got to hug Ava and Ailani, always a welcomed treat! All of these friends are hand-picked by God for me in this time of sorrow and I have convinced myself that they had reached their limit on Amy-holding and that I could walk in solitude so not to burn them out. ha. I need them. And they don't mind.
Then came Evie and the prayer posse. Beth, Sonya, Erin, Joanna and Karen all there, willing to help me face, as Evie calls it, THE SUCK that is my life. These six sisters in Christ diverted my attention just long enough to make me laugh, lighten my load, if but for a few minutes. Then, something extraordinary happened. We all went onto the front porch (pushing 10pm now) and with them, came the Hold Spirit. You see, these gals are all filled with the Holy Spirit. It is evident in their lives. Their walk and their fruit. But Tuesday night, that Holy presence took over on my front porch and through tears and prayers and petitions and praises and laying of hands (and lots of bug bites), that beautiful body of believing women lifted me high to God so mighty, asked for peace and rest in my time of trouble, ease of my anxiety over the adoption and rest for my weary soul. I immediately was risen from that trench and felt a peace wash over me. It was nothing short of miraculous. For that few hours.
Shortly after 1 am, I woke in terrific pain and feverish chills. A kidney infection. Constant, urging pain. No time for sorrow. No time for 'if only's'. Unable to fix my mind on anything but the name of Jesus to take away the searing pain. 36 hours, Urgent care, ineffective Cipro treatment, worsening pain and fever. Prayers, scripture and more prayers...back to the ER via Evie's gas-hog chariot...a few doses of heavy pain meds, 2 bags of IV fluids, a CT scan, some IV antibiotics and a herd of strange healthcare personel and I am almost good as new-ish. PRAISE YOU, JESUS! Oh, and a delightful email at the end of the day saying Mihret passed her medical exam and we are all set for submission to US Embassy on Wednesday. What a faithful God I serve. (even if he has a twisted sense of humor.)
