It's hard to believe that a year ago, the idea of being pregnant was just settling in over our family. There were so many questions about my health and the health of our baby. The biggest question in everyone's mind was, "Will this baby be sick, too?" OK, let's face it, we all wondered. Most people, kept their thoughts to themselves and silently wondered what we we'd gotten ourselves into. Others, those we call "true friends," just came right out and spoke their minds and said that they'd support us despite the health of the baby. However, as usual, my husband who doesn't mind taking great leaps of faith without calculating risks simply said, "It's in God's hands and there's nothing we can do to change it." Me, on the other hand, had to wrestle with this kind of faith. Yes, we've had to have a lot of faith over the last few years but, hey, they say hindsight is 20/20 and I was definitely trying to use hindsight to guide my steps. Anyway, my point is that even though I knew our surprise pregnancy was a definite blessing and gift, I had to wonder how I was going to face caring for another sick baby and ultimately burying her if things played out that way. Eric, on the other hand, continued to say that things would be just fine. (There were definitely days I wanted to knock his teeth out. I just wanted him to worry with me and roll in despair with me for a few minutes)!
So, as the due date neared, my family gave me a baby shower. We, of course, had long since given away all of our baby stuff and were starting over again. At the shower, my sister gave me three beautiful dresses for the baby. They were all frilly and gorgeous. These are the kind of dresses that you put on the baby when you arrive at the picture studio and you don't even wear them on the drive to the studio for fear some random liquid is going to bubble forth from the little volcano onto the dress and ruin it! At the shower, I politely thanked my sister and carefully folded the dresses back up and put them in the box.
The dresses were all 3-6 month sizes. I didn't know if our baby would be sick and if she would even live long enough to wear the dresses. At the time, I put anything that wasn't a newborn size in a plastic bin and tucked it in the closet. Yes, it is a morbid thought but that was my frame of reference and my reality at that time. So, the dresses were hung in the back of the closet with the tags still on them and the receipt taped to one of the tags. And, there they hung, and hung, and hung.
Last Saturday night as I was laying everyone's clothes out for church, I saw the dresses. How funny that I hadn't noticed them before now. However, I just had this complete moment of thankfulness which was followed by that ping of guilt for being so faithless. My Annie girl is now almost 7 months old, has tested negative for Pompe's, and will be around for quite some time to ensure that she turns each and every hair on my head gray.
I tell this story to let everyone know that, yes, I am still very protective of Annie. It was at this six month point when we realized that there was something seriously wrong with Ansley. There are many times when I watch Annie sleep (ha - that happens very rarely) and I wonder if Ansley would have had the same "hell on wheels" mentality that Annie does. We're convinced that her first words will either be, "MINE," or "NOW!" But I am still so thankful for the blessing of her addition to our family. Despite my own wailing and tantrums when she's crawling around and eating dog food and calling for someone to party with her at 2 a.m., I continue to count my blessings.
Though she is quite a handful, she wore her red dress proudly to church on Sunday morning. The nursery workers had no idea of the significance of the dress and simply said that the red color matched her personality and the color she turned herself as she screamed throughout her stay in the baby holding tank better known as the nursery. I just had to giggle and whisper a little prayer of thanks for Annie and her red dress.
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