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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.

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