Tumor

Dear Son,

You were only a few days old, the first time I noticed it.

The small round lump in your neck.

Your beautiful, soft, sweet smelling neck.

No bigger than a small grape, I rolled the pad of my thumb over it a few times and wondered why your lymphs would be swollen.

In my postpartum delirium I did not even pause to question myself. I kept on enjoying the wonder of you. Memorizing the sweep of your eyelashes, adoring the fullness of your cheeks and kissing those ten silly toes. Soaking in the newborn freshness of you while you slept on my chest or nuzzled close to my side.

You.

Miraculous, captivating, you.

A few days later I sat nursing you on my bed. Daddy walked in and we spoke in hushed tones about our day. I remember looking down to turn you over and catching sight of something strange. I placed my hand on your neck and gasped out loud. That small lump had grown in a matter of days to span the length of your neck from chin to collarbone.

How can I adequately explain my fear in that moment? It was mind numbing. I was utterly terrified.


Did I question what God was doing?

Yes, I did.

Did I let my mind drift to all the awful things this tumor could signify?

Yes, I did.



You know sweet boy, Daddy was never afraid?

He kept reminding me of that morning all those months ago when he stood in church and heard God speak to his heart about our fourth son. He reminded me that your name was whispered then, as he stood silent in the pews of the church where your Mama was raised. Daddy had no idea you were in my womb at that very moment. I had only just discovered you that morning and the beautiful wondrous secret of you had yet to be shared. Daddy had your name in his heart even as I carried you, freshly knit and unbeknownst to him.

You can bet that Daddy did not let me forget it.

He never doubted. He remained firm and secure. He knew God had a plan in all this, no matter what your diagnosis was. He knew that God would never leave our side or allow you to slip from the palm of His mighty hand.

So Daddy held me in his arms as I held you and we prayed for you. Your Daddy always leads me closer to Jesus, always.  Even though I felt afraid, I followed him to the place we needed to be most in the whole world. At the foot of the throne, asking Jesus for His grace and mercy.

Those first days and weeks were frightening at times and encouraging at others.

You looked so small on that hospital bed. They used an ultrasound wand on you that looked like a miniature hockey stick. You were so mad at the cold gel and the nurse who peeled away your little gown, exposing you to the frigid air. "Mad as a hornet, cute as bee" she said.

Finding out you were living in pain was one of the worst days ever. We began working hard with your therapist to bring you comfort. I have to tell you, watching you smile for the first time once the cloud of pain had lifted...oh my boy...  that was heavenly.

Do you know what I am thankful for today?

Your tumor.

Your awesome, miraculous, spectacular, gift from heaven tumor.

Thank you Lord, for blessing my son with his tumor.

Even though it brought you pain and discomfort, your tumor saved your life.

That outward sign of something gone terribly wrong allowed us to act quickly and intervene.

Early intervention, they call it.

Intervention to stop the myriad difficulties and challenges that would have snow balled into your life.  

Syndromes and lists of potential -isms. A daily dragon to battle all the live long days of your life.

But that awful blessed tumor sounded the alarm.

Some days you love your therapy--- other days it is a struggle. We work hard together, you and I.

Every day that passes I see progress of one kind or another.

Your tumor suddenly dissolved over Christmas. The muscles in your neck are gradually loosening. Your therapists now expects a graduation day later this year.

THIS YEAR.

If this had gone unnoticed for a few months or a year, it would have been a lifetime of struggle. But it was not months or years, it was days. And because it only took days to find, we will celebrate your graduation this year.

Years from now when we sit together on our porch or gather at the kitchen table and you begin pouring your heart out to us, those age long questions about life and God and faith, falling from your lips--- Where is He leading? Where am I going? What should I do? What is God doing?

I'm sure you'll think I'm crazy, but I may not be able to help myself...

Forgive me if I reach out and ever so gently, place my finger on the right side of your neck? I'm just reminding myself, and perhaps you too, of His ever mysterious ways, working for the good of those who love Him.

Love,
Mama