fear

a number of weeks ago, the boys and i headed down to the fort with some friends and their kids.  as we were walking, the big boys ahead with my friend heather, and me behind talking with her husband  eric and following the slow but ever independent jonah, i was met with the most horrifying experience in my mothering journey to date.

honestly, i have debated whether or not i should put this down in writing... is there a point in doing so?  it has taken me some time to come to the conclusion that, yes, there is most definitely a point.  One day, a long time from now, i want my sweet jonah to read this and see that the hand of God has been on him since he was just a tiny person.  and that the God that his parents worship and pray that he will one day know is not only real but also fully in control, even when life feels so very out of control.

back to my story...

lately, jonah has been doing this thing where he will turn to the side as he is running or walking (usually to get a good look at his surroundings or to smile at someone) and simply continue forward without any knowledge of the direction in which he is travelling.  at home, this tends to result in him running into a wall or the table or another completely avoidable object.  he tends to end up rattled and unhurt, and we tend to find it pretty funny.  all of my boys have gone through this phase, so it is nothing new to us.

on this particular fort day, jonah was strutting in front of me, proud of his relative independence.  he was a good distance from the wall to our right, and i was confident that if he tried to run from me i could catch him without much effort.

simultaneously, he began to run and turned to look to the left.  he veered sharply to the right and with only seconds notice, he was within inches of the stone wall.  the only possible thing to do would have been to call out his name and hope he would stop running, but at the risk of startling him off the edge.   instead, i started running at him, as did eric.  it was not until he stumbled slightly on the coquina of the wall that he realized that he was in danger.  instinctively, he squatted down to try and brace himself and avoid falling.  instead, as i screamed his name in terror, he tumbled off of the stone wall and fell seven feet to the ground below.

when i reached the wall seconds later, i jumped to the ground (no small feat, mind you, considering i broke my ankle not two years ago!) and went straight to him.  eric (who is much taller and thus faster than me) had scooped him up and was holding him.  he was struggling to get that first big cry out, having had the wind knocked out of him.  and it took forever.  when he finally started to cry, it was different that his normal cry, and right away, his eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp in my arms.  and i noticed that his lips were blue.  terrified of making it worse, i laid him in the grass so i could look him over for injuries.  just as i was about to ask eric to call an ambulance, he came to and climbed sobbing into my arms.

heather, who had heard my scream and figured out what had happened, brought the boys over (apparently, she had made them stop and pray for jonah in an attempt to calm his protector brother, titus down enough to keep him from jumping to the rescue himself).  they all comforted him and loved on him until he was feeling better.  ten minutes later, you would never have known anything had happened.

when we made it to the van, i called steve.  and then i lost it, having finally allowed myself to consider what could have really happened.  i think i sobbed for a good twenty or thirty minutes in the car before i could drive him to the pediatrician (who steve had to call, because they would never have been able to understand me!)  he checked out fine, just a bit scratched up.  he was incredibly lucky, really.  he had landed in soft dirt and hit no rocks on the way down.  he had missed falling onto the huge light by only a few feet.  and he had landed well.

while we were walking back to the car, eric asked me how scary that experience was as a mother,  i told him it was a ten, but would not have been prior to titus's accident.  nowadays, every injury, every fall, every accident is followed by an instinctive heart-stopping moment where i am terrified.  i am forever walking this line between wanting to allow the boys some freedom to be boys and learn to take safe risks and wanting to do whatever i can to never have to talk to DCF again.  in a house with four boys, there will be broken bones and stitches.  and that fact that i stay home with them and plan to homeschool them long term means that those injuries are fairly likely to happen while they are alone with me.  i am comfortable with all of this, and determined not to live my life in fear of what could happen or to make my boys live their lives in the shadow of their mother's fear. but my rational understanding of these circumstances has no bearing on whether or not my heart will skip a beat whenever they get hurt.  thankfully i have a husband and friend whose first thought was to reassure me with the words "you did nothing wrong" (both of them, those words exactly.  they knew what my heart needed to hear that day, and i am so grateful) the Lord has proven faithful in protecting our little family, and i an confident that whatever comes next, he will give me the grace to trust him in it.