Sometimes

Sometimes I hold Gabe and am overwhelmed by his sweet baby smell, my nose resting on his baby soft skin.

And sometimes I change Gabe's diaper and am overwhelmed by medicine-laden urine.

Sometimes I throw Gabe in the air and catch him, just like I did the other boys, eliciting deep belly laughs.

And sometimes I am leery of playing anything more "exciting" with him than a friendly game of peek-a-boo.

Sometimes I rejoice when Gabe sleeps all night, or even for 6 hours straight without waking up.

And sometimes I lay in bed just wanting to hear a silence-breaking sqwak. 

Sometimes I dream about the basketball team of boys we're well on our way to creating with their handsome and strong daddy as their coach.

And sometimes I weep knowing that Gabe won't get to play on it.

Sometimes I give my baby one of his doses of medicine without even thinking as he flaps his arms in excited anticipation of receiving it.

And sometimes I am tired of calling in refill orders and trying to figure out and reconcile pharmecuetical errors. 

Sometimes I look at Gabe and just laugh at him as he scrunches up his nose, making silly faces and sounds.

And sometimes I look at Gabe and am overcome with tears that this sweet little baby has a heart condition.

Sometimes I wonder what it will look like when Gabe has an "episode" - How old? Where? When? What?

And sometimes I remember that God can heal him at an acceptable time and according to His steadfast love. 

Sometimes my heart bursts at the seams with joy that God has chosen me to be this baby's mommy.

And sometimes my heart breaks knowing that he is not mine to keep.

Sometimes. 

But God is faithful.  And good.  And kind.  And loving.  And all-sufficient.

Always.