Pain in the Night and Joy in the Morning

There may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning.

This verse (Psalm 30:5) has always been special to me because of the hope and reassurance it brings in the stormiest hours. However, last week it never felt more true.

Pain and Sorrow

Saturday, February 20th was a fun-filled day spent with family celebrating my niece’s first birthday in Atlanta. Of course, it was a busy day so bedtime could not come soon enough for the entire family. Unfortunately, our rest was short-lived when we were abruptly awakened at 12:30am to this horrible animal-like scream coming through the monitor from Brayden’s room. We quickly walked/ran to his room and found him in the throes of a grand mal seizure. Of course, we did not know that at the time. At first we thought he might be having a bad dream but we were not able to wake him up. Then, we thought it might be a full body cramp because all of his muscles were contracting very quickly. We gently rubbed his arms and legs until his body was calm again and he was back to sleeping peacefully. Then, I spoke the words that I hoped to never have to say, “I think that was a seizure” …

Of course, peaceful sleep was not even close to being an option for Wesley and me. The seizure set off a whirlwind of conversations with doctors, research, phone calls, and texts. Not to mention, listening and studying Brayden’s breaths as he slept between us.

At some point in the wee hours of the morning we finally found sleep, although I would not describe it as peaceful. Amazingly, Brayden woke up as his happy and sweet and snugly self. It almost made the previous night feel like a simple nightmare. However, my call logs and texts and the images burned into my brain remind me that it was not a dream. Unfortunately, some scenes can never be erased.

Joy and Gratefulness

After some Starbucks drinks, we went to church the next morning and were immediately surrounded by our friends and family. The way we were cared for and loved on by our church community brought a flicker of joy to my weary heart and I felt a slight glimmer of confidence that Wesley and I could navigate a new set of circumstances, however that may look.

The angst and sadness that occurred in the darkness of night on February 21st slowly gave way to joy and gratefulness again as the days passed.

We still do not have answers to all of our questions, but we are confident that God prepared a way for us. Only a week prior, one of our doctors had decided to go over seizure protocol with us just in case. The doctor could not have known how desperately we would need the information only nine days later, but God knew.

God knew.

Hug your little ones tight tonight and I will do the same.