I wrote a post this week for BabyCenter in honor of Thanksgiving called How I’m thankful for my half-brained baby. Never before have I received so many comments where the prevailing theme was God.
Your daughter is beautiful!!! God bless her always. Thank you for writing such a beautiful story. People complain a lot about everything and here you are making the best out of this.
My prayer is that you and your little angel will always be the best companions! This was just the beginning. The best still lies ahead. Always remember: the darkest hour is just before dawn. May the Lord richly bless you!
These are all beautiful sentiments, but I think it will disappoint them to know that I’m not a very religious person. I’m curious. I’m interested in the world. I wonder about a lot of things and I certainly can not explain them all. But, religious?
I am Jewish. I definitely associate myself as such. I am interested in getting involved with the London Jewish Community, but I haven’t as yet and I imagine it will take Ieuan getting a little older before I do.
I always wondered whether, in a time of crisis, I would turn to God. People seem to do so, suddenly, when the need is great. Then, I had a time of major crisis after May was born, when I knew her life would be forever limited and I thought my life was grimly over as well.
Weeks after May was born, I realized that not once had I prayed to God, nor had I grown angry with him for what he had done.
Before it happened, I questioned the integrity of my lack of belief. After, I no longer doubted. I feel no connection to God. I wish I did. I wish I could access the strength of faith that others do. But, I don’t believe.
Other people are welcome to pray for May. I like that May is not far from people’s thoughts. I don’t mind when they call her a blessing or a gift. I feel those things too. But, her injuries are not a blessing or a gift, and I certainly don’t want to think of them as the opposite, a punishment.
But, what of talk of God’s plan? That God would fufill his plan by destroying May’s life, is not something I can contemplate. I can’t conceive of how the brain damage has benefited her in any way. That it may have subsequently meant some other good has happened is inconsequential.
Many people have wanted to comfort me by explaining that God doesn’t give us anything more than we can handle. By that, they always mean me. He didn’t give ME anything more than I can handle. They never mean May. Because clearly, May’s injuries are more than she can handle.
Finally, one last comment from the BabyCenter post:
My prayer is always for you and your daughter. Dont worry, soon she will recover miraculously.
There are no miracles at hand for May. One of the most difficult things for me has been to face this idea down. How wonderful it would be to believe that miracles await May, but they don’t.
What does await her is years of love and strength, not from God, but from her parents, family and friends. What awaits her is the best that education, equipment and therapies can offer her. What awaits her is people: patient, kind and generous in her community. I worry about many things, but I trust that, in the end, we will find her all of these gifts.
Do you want to share your thoughts on God’s plan for May? I’m genuinely interested to hear from all sides.