Instinct

A little over 14 months ago, I took my husband to the hospital and the nightmare began. I've always been a fairly optimistic person and up until that day I knew our faith in God would prove to be bigger than any problem we faced. I was never an overly emotional person, until that day in the hospital,. That day, something came over me; I don't know why because at that point we were under the impression that this was an asthma attack. For some reason sitting in the ER room tears starting coming down my face because I had a bad feeling that this was something else. My instinct was right. Confirmation came the next day and more confirmation the day after that. My whole world was starting to spin out of control and I had lapses of faith where I just fell apart and then I got it back together and tried my best to put on the I'm not worried face in front of my husband. So much so, that when he finally saw me falling apart I said I didn't want to talk about it because he didn't need to hear it. Even when they told us he was going to have the surgery, I was never afraid of the surgery. He asked me if I was scared of the surgery and I said, No, I'm scared of the pain you will be in after the surgery until you fully recover. Call it instinct or whatever. However, after the surgery he was doing so well that I didn't have to put on the face anymore; I really did have faith that he was o.k. and he was coming home from that hospital. My instinct was wrong.

I have thought back about the instincts I felt throughout all of that and all the time since then. I have a distinct memory on the day Steve died of sitting there in a chair next to his bed and noticing the little piece on the back of the bed that says CPR release. Looking back, I wondered if the fact that I noticed it, meant something. 

Grieving ruins instinct. It all becomes either denial or fear. Every time something remotely bad happens I immediately feel like all hope is lost. 

I had recently started to get to a place of acceptable peace; knowing that nothing would ever feel right again, but that I could try to build a life for me and my girls. Then another medical issue for one of my kids and now, I'm facing more fear and I'm trying so hard to hold onto faith, but after what happened, I'm not sure how to do that anymore. God is the only thing that can control this medical issue, not even medicine can control it 100% of the time.

Having lost all that I have, my instincts are broken. Every instinct is now fear. Sometimes it feels like God can't possibly know what is happening here, because if he had the slightest clue what I have gone though he would just heal her so I can breathe again. Then I think about all the tragedy everyone else in the world endures and I know, in my head, it could be worse.Too bad that doesn't make me feel any better. So, I do the only thing I can do at this point in time and that is be thankful for everyday I have with my kids while I wait for healing and peace.