In My Arms

I heard this song on the radio today, and thought it was beautiful! The song triggered some memories, which then triggered a thought process, which of course led to this blog. :-) Funny how that happens!

Here's the first part of the song and the chorus.

Your baby blues
So full of wonder
Your curlicues
Your contagious smile
And as I watch
You start to grow up
All I can do is hold you tight

Knowing
Clouds will rage in
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash all around
But you will be safe in my arms

There have been so many instances where I have held my baby, looking at their sweet face, knowing full well that they are sinners, born into a sin marred world. A world where they will fall down and get hurt, where sickness is inevitable, and where people will hurt them. Even though they are very loved, and even though Curtis and I vow to do everything possible to shelter and protect them, we know we can't. But in that moment, as I look into their sweet face, they are safe in my arms.

I remember holding Benjamin for the last time before his surgery, as Curtis and I prayed over him. And then the doctor came, and I let him leave the safety of my arms. And even worse, I knew what he was about to undergo. It was the hardest part of the entire day for me, to have my baby leave my arms, probably the hardest thing that I have ever done. I know that the only way I was able to do that without completely losing it was to know that my arms aren't the safest place for him, or any of my children. Try as I may, I can't protect them from the trials they will encounter. Even though I did everything "right" during my pregnancy, I couldn't protect Benjamin from his deformity. And even though I love my children, so very much, I know that they are loved by Someone who can keep them safe. And so, at that moment when I let my baby leave the safety of my arms, I thought about the ONE who was holding him.

After the surgery, I went back to the recovery room to be with Benjamin as he woke up. Coming out of anesthesia isn't fun, especially when you are six months old! I was nervous about seeing him for the first time, unsure of what to expect. But the joy that I had seeing him, doing so well was immense! Never mind the cords, the wires, the beeping, or the massive bandage. God had protected him, and kept him safe in HIS arms.

"We don't usually let Mom or Dad hold their baby right after surgery," the nurse told me. "But Dr. Aronin gave special instructions to let you hold him." I was so thankful!! It was quite a challenge to maneuver all the wires and cords, but of course we managed. And when he was placed back into my arms, I had more joy and thankfulness than when I held him for the very first time, after he was born.

Later, during the middle of the night, Benjamin struggled some with pain. We were able to manage it with morphine, but in order to get out of the PICU, he had to be off morphine. I was the only one up there with him, and rather than sleeping, I was watching him sleep. As he started to struggle with some pain, and his blood pressure rose, I asked the nurse if I could hold him (so strange to have to ask permission to hold your own baby!). She kindly told me that sometimes the best thing is for them to just get rest and not to be messed with. She also told me that she was a mom, and knew that sometimes moms just need to hold their baby. I wanted to do what was best for him, so I just loved on him and let him rest. But his blood pressure wasn't going down. The nurse suggested that we go ahead and let me hold him and try to nurse him (another requirement to get out of the PICU). The second that he was put in my arms, his blood pressure dropped to normal, as did his heart rate. The nurse just smiled, and said, "Well, you were obviously right, and knew just what he needed!" The safety of my arms.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for holding us all in your arms! Thank you for loving us, for protecting us, and for showering your us with your grace and mercy. Once again, I place my children back in your arms, knowing that you alone can keep them safe.