You quickly find things out about yourself when your shirt is dripping and your hands are sticky with the evidence of your child’s illness. I was never the girl that played house and dreamed of the day I would have kids. I never believed I would be okay with having another human’s bodily fluids all over me. I therefore determined I would be childless (so many fluids come out of children) and never enter the medical profession on any level (even more fluids flowing in a hospital… gross). I knew if I became a mother this day would come. I knew it would be revolting and messy and smelly and, well, disturbing. What I didn’t know is that it would disturb me for reasons independent of the bodily fluid on my shirt and on my hands.

This past week and a half I’ve inwardly ached and outwardly cried for Ray. She’s miserable. First she had a stomach bug, then she lost the ability to go to the bathroom due to the bug, and finally she caught a cold (which she promptly passed to the rest of the family). Even though she’s an achy, hungry, stopped up mess, she still laughs and sings and dances when she can. She also cries for no reason, or many reasons, constantly. Today is the first day that she’s made it through a whole hour without losing it over something. Deep breath.

The things I found out about myself in this first true experience mothering sick are both encouraging and discouraging. I was surprised to find that what other parents have said is actually true: I love every bit of Ray and don’t think twice about having her vomit on me. I was equally surprised to find that I didn’t trust God with an ounce of her health during that time. Several years ago my Dad and I went to pick up a pizza for the family. It was a rare moment in my adult life when it was just me and him, and those moments often result in a deep conversation. He asked how Brian and I felt about potentially having children in an area of the world that is high risk for malaria, dengue, measles, and other such unpleasantness. I very confidently said that, though we had talked about it, we weren’t concerned. We felt strongly that God has us in PNG, and that includes any children we may have. Unless He made it clear that we should move back to the States, we would trust Him with our hypothetical children’s health. I even went so far as to say that if they do contract a tropical disease, we know that it isn’t out of His control or plan. Wow. I was so confident I felt that way and so clueless about how deeply a child wiggles into a parent’s heart. So deep, in fact, that I have to check myself on whether I’m putting the child above God in my life. When I didn’t handle her first average stomach bug very well I began to question how I would handle anything more serious. I just couldn’t let go of the worry and trust that she actually was under His control and in His plan. Every minute of her run of the mill illness I was sure she was dehydrated or compacted or dangerously exhausted. Never mind that she was drinking milk and water with a vengeance. Never mind that she was sleeping most of the night. Never mind that she was singing “In Summer” and “Let It Go” in between bouts of nausea. The positives tend to slip by me when I convince myself it’s time to worry.

Though still sick and far from her normal self, Ray is doing better. As her health clearly improves, I also improve. I’m grateful that this first experience was in Australia instead of PNG. God clearly knew that I would need the comfort of knowing two reliable and fully-functioning hospitals were 15 minutes away and in His mercy He provided that. However, we’re only weeks from returning to a situation with more risk and less care. A situation where my crutches are taken away and all that’s left is a confident trust in our Father or frayed nerves and a thicker gray streak in my hair. I’m not going to be as flippant as I was on that pizza run in knowing how I will react when another illness hits my girls. What I will be doing is better preparing myself for it now that I know I’m not as amazing as I thought I was. I’m learning that our trust in Him for anything can only come out of a reliance on Him, rather than a confident boast in our own hypothetical abilities to trust. So hopefully next time around there will be a little less worry and a little more leaning.