Little Lion — 6

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

9. Thankful

If I am being honest, I wasn’t soaking in gratitude when we first received Little Lion’s diagnosis.
It was overwhelming: the emergency injections and the long list of symptoms to look for in case of adrenal crisis or low blood sugar, circumstances that warranted an emergency room visit.
All the new information was scary.

I wondered if he would be able to live a normal life because of his medical needs. Summer camp? School trips without a school nurse? Could we go camping as a family?
I didn’t think I would ever have a handle on his steroids schedule (sometimes every 8 hours, sometimes every 6 hours, an increase based on x y and z, with an added 4 am dose), not to mention his temporary liver medicine and all added vitamins.

And, I missed our family in Tanzania. I struggled with the necessary wait for Little Lion to be stable before we returned home.

I also wanted to sit down and ask God why our little boy was not born absolutely healthy.
I took all the vitamins and avoided anything even remotely suggested to be dangerous during pregnancy.
Why did he have a health condition, when I was so very careful?
What more could I have done for Little Lion to be okay?
I didn’t blame myself, but I certainly wanted some sort of answer from God.

And then, some months after we had returned home to Arusha, I was alone in the car, driving home in the early evening and it hit me: Little Lion could have died.
I had considered this every day in the hospital, yes. But it was in a terrified way, never in a grateful awareness.
Little Lion could have died. But he didn’t.

And my questions to God, my struggle with his health condition are valid and permitted, but that should not be an obstacle to being overjoyed that my son is alive.
I can ask and I can wonder, but I should also rejoice.

A foreign thankfulness started to erupt in my heart and I began crying, while smiling and laughing (and slightly struggling to drive).

Again, the memories washed over me, Little Lion turning blue, his weak body waking up from surgery, crying in hunger as he fasted for a biopsy. And the recollections were for the first time joyful because Little Lion lived!
All of the fear, every moment watching my son in pain, were washed in new light – of how serious it all was. That truly my son is not just ‘lucky’ to be alive, he is a walking miracle.
He is alive, not by chance, but because God saved him again, and again, and again. More times than I will probably ever even know.

Perhaps that’s the second re-wiring my brain has undergone since Little Lion’s diagnosis and journey to heath: life is the most beautiful, sacred gift.
Apart from abilities, without accounting for talents or achievements, even to exist is remarkable.

It is an incredible thing just to ‘be’ in this world.
To breathe, whether assisted with oxygen or independently through able lungs.
To grow, naturally or because of artificial steroids through regular injections.
To experience the world, either because you go out and taste it or because dedicated caregivers bring it to your fingertips.
To be loved, not for what you can do but for who you are.

To be in this frightening, splendid planet where nothing is certain, there is very real pain and everything can go wrong. But where also, there are sunrises, unexpected kindness, and most definitely there are miracles.

And therefore, it should be celebrated.

So, on Saturday we will eat banana cake and sing very loudly and very off-key. We will dance and cheer as the baby makes a horrible mess of mango puree and sugar-free cake. We will celebrate the simple, amazing reality that Little Lion is alive.

Happy Birthday, my love.
Life has never been the same.

The End