No Food or Drink Allowed

I think I can understand David a little better today. As much as I can relate to being a sinner who loves God with my whole heart, there are so many passages in Scripture that I struggle to deeply understand on a personal, life-defining level.

One of those is a song King David wrote, Psalm 119. Christian author and teacher Beth Moore has a beautiful Sunday school lecture about it. But even with her love of Scripture and her energy when she speaks, I never really felt like doing cartwheels over things like "I reach out for your commands, which I love, that I may meditate on your decrees." v. 48. Or how about verse 97, which says "Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long."

Hmmm, I do many things all day long. Change diapers, pick up toys off the floor, feed several people, wash clothes, wash mouths, wash floors...you get the picture. I don't think that I have ever meditated on God's law all day long. At least, not on purpose. Or not because I loved it so much.

On the surface, God's law seems to frustrate a large part of the earth's population. I often hear complaints like "He is such a God of do nots" or "Following God is not very fun." It's a challenge to understand that His law is really best. Even when we think we know better than Him. Becoming a mama has helped soften this side of my stubborn nature a bit. Telling my children "no" or "not yet" because I understand the bigger picture that they do not see has helped me to understand more personally that God is always looking out for me. He sees things that I do not. He understands parts of the way that our world works that I never will. His ways are always the best.

Monday was Cameron's pre-operative appointment. I was quite annoyed when I arrived and the walls and doors and chairs and everywhere I looked were plastered with signs that said "No Food or Drink Allowed." I was like "what are these people thinking?!" Surely they do not understand that I will be entertaining a very active 2 1/2 year old for the next 3 hours while we meet with many different teams of nurses and doctors to prepare for Cameron's upcoming surgery! And Cameron isn't just any toddler; he is one with severe feeding issues. He was well taken care of and had plenty to eat while at Starfish Foster Home. However, his early months of life were not that way and you all saw a couple photos of Cameron as a malnourished infant. He never experienced having enough to eat, and it stays with him to this day. This kid is obsessed with food. Right now, it's the most comforting thing he can find and the fact that this blonde lady who keeps calling herself "mama" keeps giving it to him is working out just fine for him in his new little life that he is trying to decipher.

I am embarrassed to say that I didn't accept this hospital law with much grace. I actually made a comment about it to the desk administrator. And the nurse. And the person sitting next to me in the waiting room of pre-op/admitting. I was relieved when we would be taken into consultation rooms so I could start shoving food into Cameron during our long morning. It's the trick that always works for him when he's about to have a meltdown. Or when I am about to have a meltdown!

Today was not going to be like Monday. Today is _actually_ surgery day. Cameron would need to fast for 8 hours prior to surgery. When I learned that Cameron might not have the first surgery slot, I actually started to cry. I begged the pre-op nurse to make it happen and prayed and had others pray and contacted a friend who is a nurse at Children's Hospital Boston so she could send emails and work her magic to try to make sure this happened.

I knew this would be a problem for my sweet boy. He was not going to understand. It's not that I thought I would be depriving him of food and that he would be hungry and crying. It's because food is synonymous with love for him right now. When I tell Cameron "no" to food, he gets a look of despair and melts down. It is no ordinary toddler meltdown. It is a broken-hearted wail and face so sad that no one in their right mind could go about their business like everything is fine. He cries when I don't give him food first at the table. He cries when someone gets a second helping and asks for more even if his plate is still full. Cameron gets so stressed out by the presence of large quantities of food that he is not consuming that I actually got two tables for us in China when we ate. One table was for the serving dishes of food and the other table is where we sat.

I did my best to distract him this morning. When I took him out of the carseat in the parking garage, he spotted a lone Cheerio on the floor of the car. He immediately pointed to it and asked me for it. I pretended that I did not notice. He looked at me funny and pointed back to the car when I cheerfully walked away from the source of food whistling as if nothing was happening. The pre-op room didn't open until 6 am so we had a few minutes for me to change him and get him dressed this morning. As I pulled the diaper out of the bag, he spotted a ziploc bag and assumed there must be food in it for him. He started to whine and point and sign and yell and do anything he could to tell me that he wanted me to give him some food. At first I pretended like I didn't hear him, but when he threw his "Polar Bear, Polar Bear" book at me and yelled and signed "eat" and gave me a look like, "you are acting like a complete idiot. I know you know what I am saying!!" I started to tear up. I was trying to be brave before surgery but my heart was breaking because I knew for Cameron, food means more to him right now than some activity to keep from being hungry.

I walked out of the bathroom a bit frazzled and looked at Geoff and said "if I see one person even take a sip of water to take their medication, I am going to totally lose it. I am serious. I will go off. I cannot bear to see him suffer and he will lose it if he sees food or drink anywhere." I was just about finished with my little tirade as we approached the office and do you know what the first thing I saw was? A big orange sign that said "NO FOOD OR DRINK ALLOWED." I let out a small sigh of relief and felt like I was in a safe place temporarily. Cameron would not see any water bottles or Cheerios or apples or anything.

As I checked in with the desk administrator, I got a little lump in my throat as I realized that this same person that I complained to on Monday about why wasn't _I_ allowed to have snacks for my child was actually a person who was looking out for him. The rule that I hated on Monday was now offering me peace and comfort on Thursday.

David had a relationship with God that was so special that he was literally called "a man after God's own heart." David said that he loved God's law and would meditate on it day and night. It wasn't the rules, per say, as much as it was that Scripture was a way for him to experience God's presence. Today in the pre-op room, I actually saw a law that really did make me want to do a cartwheel right then and there. Because this same law was not well-received a mere 3 days prior to my celebratory dance, it made me think about God's law. Maybe, just maybe, God knows more than me. And because of this, He wants to protect me. He loves me and wants the best for me. He understands the bigger picture. What seemed painful a few days ago ended up being so much better for Cameron in the long run. My prayer is that I remember this the next time I get flustered with God and list off my complaints to Him. "No Food or Drink Allowed" for anyone just might be the best way after all.

Now I am ready for summer to begin!

Many have been asking for an update on Cameron or simply how things are going. My answer this week is "Now I am ready for summer to begin!" I have always loved September, the real "new year" where resolutions are easy to come by and crossing off to-do lists with brand new colored markers is always the most fun. But since becoming a mama, summer has moved to the top of my list of favorite seasons. Somewhere between hand-picked bouquets of dandylions by chubby toddler hands and sand in every crevice of bodies from head to toe, I have fallen in love with this season. Last year, Gretchen, Madelyn and I were beach bums. I was starting to get pretty darn good at packing us up and heading to the beach most days.

The beginning of this summer was FRANTIC. Adoption paperwork, arguing with my bank over crisp, new bills to take to China, 16 days away from my daughters in order to pick up my son- their brother. Stress. Cameron came home 2 months ago. Seems like yesterday and seems like a lifetime ago simultaneously.

Coming home is hard. Really hard. And the issues that you deal with while being jetlagged and sleep deprived are much more complicated than dealing with a newborn coming home from the hospital. Instead of nursing my newborn in a rocking chair, I am trying to get my toddler to not rock his head violently when he is trying to fall asleep. Instead of trying to figure out if my one month old will accept breastmilk from a bottle, I am trying to get my toddler who was home for a month to stop using a bottle to prepare him for his cleft palate surgery. Instead of trying to get big sister toddler to give more gentle hugs and kisses to the baby, I am trying to get all toddlers to stop hitting each other and use words. Except he doesn't have any. And won't. For a LONG time.

Last year, the memory-making moments flowed from one day to the next. This summer has been memorable for sure, but the photo opportunities of fun in the summer sun had to be thoughtfully planned out and acted upon. Cameron has been home for 8 weeks and has been to see 11 different specialists at Children's Hospital Boston. The administrators at the front desk who graciously stamp my parking tickets every visit recognize me and recognize Cameron.

In between trying to get a handle on everything that is going on with Cameron medically and prepping things for his upcoming palate repair and ear surgery, we managed to squeeze in some playground time, a few visits to the beach, and lots of time on the mechanical carousel at Market Basket which is my new favorite activity and only costs a quarter!





This week Facebook posts have been filled with adorable cherubs in backpacks waiting for school buses and first days of school. I love seeing the toothless grins proudly displaying their new outfits. But, I am really not ready for Fall yet and it's here nonetheless. Before I lament too long about my not enough beach time summer, I have to keep focused on one thing and one thing only- God's plan for our lives. His word says in Eccelesiastes 3 that "there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."

After many years of waiting for our adoption, the final months were filled with prayers that went something like "make this happen in your perfect timing, Lord." God knew the day that Cameron would meet his forever family and He knew that the best time for that to happen for the Murrays would be the summer.

So now it's time for me to do what I have been working so hard to teach my children- make good choices. I can choose to be grumpy that I schlepped into Boston all summer to go to doctor appointments or I can be thankful that I have a son now and that I live in the country (and city) that has the best doctors in the world. I can choose to be sad that we never went to the wading pool once during the month of July because we had to wait for giardia stool tests to be negative 3 times, or I can be thankful that it is cleared up and we went a couple times in August. I can choose to have my prayers be "please God, let there be a parking space on the first or second floor of the garage so I don't have to wait for the annoyingly long elevator" or they can be "please God, heal the child whose Dad is weeping in the elevator and carrying a duffle bag with his clothes for another week while his son is in treatment at CHB."

Our blow-up kiddie pool is looking pretty dingy and sadly deflated leaning against the carport wall. I keep hoping that after this cold and rainy weather ends, it will be replaced with 80 degree days that will give me a reason to fill it back up again. If not, I think I will take a hayride and pick some apples or pumpkins with an adorable little boy who will finally have the holes in his palate fixed and won't have to cough and sneeze and have food dripping out of his nose when he eats because "there is a season for every activity under the heavens."