Skip to main content

Baby Prasifka

A friend and I were having a conversation the other day about how it seems like the whole world's crashing down around us right now. If you've been following my blog, you know that beautful Baby Will lost his battle with the effects of prematurity in January. We know people who have been diagnosed with awful diseases. One of our walking buddy's relatives had a young child die. Several friends, coworkers, and acquaintances are trying to come to terms with the fact their babies may be developmentally delayed, autistic, and so on.

We've heard differing reactions to awful news. The people who have strong-as-steel religious faith believe that everything happens for a reason, in God's time and terms, and that we don't always have the ability to understand why, at this moment. Others, who are more jaded and fatalistic, believe—bad things happen, life sucks. Then there are a lot of us, in between, who don't want to simply throw up our arms in defeat OR can't simply sit peacefully, believing that someday the curtain will lift and shed some sort of all-knowing light on the situation and reveal the purpose behind such suffering and loss.

I want to throw things. I want to yell at whatever higher power might be up there either wreaking havoc on the lives of people I love or standing idly by, watching it all happen and doing nothing. I want to scream, WHY WHY WHY?! I hug my own sweet boy, and then I don't want to let him go for fear that, in an instant, I could lose him. Life's so fragile and fleeting. And then what...

I'm not ready to delve into that "what's the meaning of life" and "what happens when we die" business this morning. It's too early. It's a Friday. And I'm not in the right state of mind for the effort to be constructive.

Long and short of it is, my dear cousin and friend, Kerry, recently found out that the baby she's carrying—due March 31 via c-section—has a serious heart defect that will require surgery a couple days into his or her life outside the womb. And the baby will need at least two more operations by age 2. Kerry just started a blog this week (www3.caringbridge.org/tx/prasifka/) to keep family and friends updated on Baby Prasifka's condition and progress through the next months. My first reaction to reading the first post was a mixture of sadness, anger, dread, and pessimism. I have the utmost confidence in Kerry's and the baby's doctors and nurses. But remembering Will's struggles and our daily visit to the blog (sometimes three and four times daily), hanging on Mom and Dad Kenyon's every tidbit of news about his condition...well, I'm not sure we're emotionally ready to handle that again.

But I guess it isn't up to us.
That's just life. I guess we'll just have to put our questions and negativity aside and focus on Baby Prasifka and renewed hope. I'm wishing for a joyous outcome. We're all due.

We love you Kerry, Jason, Jackson, and Baby P.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Is it OK to own a Canadian?

In her radio show, Dr Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, written by a U.S. resident, and posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative: Dear Dr. Laura: Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination ... End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them. 1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexic...

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.