Blessings and Curses of a stay-at-home mom

I've been thinking a lot about Blessings and Curses as it applies to my life. Everyone who knows me knows that I am an author with a book due to be out in December- a blessing, right? I am home working on my final manuscript and promotion, which, by the way, is a FULL TIME JOB. I am also caring for my son. What a blessing. I always wanted to be able to buy my time, to get out of the rat race which for me was teaching teenagers how to read and write better. Even before having kids, over five years ago, I wanted to be home, work from home-manage my home. God has made it all possible from one litle gift. My son was born in January '06. Soon after we started to realize he had a seizure disorder and gastro problems which mainifested itself as severe reflux. Fast forward to today I am home with him because I want to and HE needs me. Now I manage his care mainly and write secondly. I take him to theraphies and doctors in different departments of Children's National Medical Center. (They see me so much the security guard stopped asking for my ID when I enter by the main door.) My son has challenges that for a long time I didn't want to name or claim. He is the most calm, loving and irresitably handsome child when he is not in pain. I seek to keep him content most of my day-waking and even night-sleeping hours. He sits by me now while I'm writing in a bucket high chair used to keep him erect.

I've beeen struck by a few things recently. He had two appointments at Children's this week already and it's only Tuesday. Yesterday while waiting in GI, I saw a twelve or thirteen year old boy in an adaptive wheel chair thingy with a harness and immediately thought, Will my son need one? My son is a petite 19 months and still uses an infant stroller and car seat. But what stopped me in my tracks and saddened me deeply was the diaper bag his mother had dangling from the handle. At the time I wasn't quite sure why this such an emotional trigger for me, but in retrospect, the bag with its bright whimsical characters and designs symbolized everything I did not want to face at that time. My son may have to be handled at twelve, eighteen, twenty-two, thrity and beyond with the same kind of care and attention of a new born. The realization crushed me. Today after his Occupational and Physical Thereaphy sessions I could not even hold the colorful brocheure of adaptive strollers his therapist tried to hand me. Instead I told her I'd get it next week.

So what's the blessing; what's the curse? Count it all joy. I come back to what I know God to be. He is a healer and a deliverer. Who knows what he has in store for my son or what strides he will make in the future. I want to make sure I don't limit his possibilities with my weary faith. I also know that what the devil designs for evil, God can turn around for good. God so orders your steps to be prepared for obstacles.
My husband and I learned little by little about my sons difficulties. What we thought was this illness and that illness turned out to be a manifestation of something more. So, although we make frequent hospital visits, my son is not ill; he has what appears to be a disability. I know if I knew that all up front at three months or even before he was born that I probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. God knew I was treading water in my previous profession and made it so that instead of consuming myself with giving to so many other kids that I'd be at home heaping it on one child-my child. The time has allowed me to work on my passion and the stories I have devoted to His purpose. So I'm two for two for blessings, no curses here!