Memory Lane Monday

This is Johnny

Johnny (along with his brother, Frankie, who later passed away) joined our family shortly after Richard and I were married. You could say that he was our first "baby."

During my long days of bedrest, Johnny was my constant companion.

Around the 30 week mark, I hit a wall. Hit it hard. I was in constant pain and miserably uncomfortable, but I was determined to carry my precious cargo as long as I possibly could. One night, as I lay in bed, hot, itchy, uncomfortable and, once again, unable to sleep, I reached my breaking point. I could feel the sobs welling up inside of me and, not wanting to wake or worry Richard, I hefted my enormous body out of bed and waddled down the hall to the bathroom. Once the door was shut, the floodgates opened and I was unable to contain my misery any longer. Silent sobs wracked my body as I pleaded with God for mercy and strength. As I sat, sobbing and pleading, something flew under the bathroom door. It was a dead mole. . . followed by a frantic orange paw, searching for it's prey.

It was more than I could take. . . .I burst into fits of hysterical laughter. And as I sat there, laughing and sobbing, I peed my pants (not hard to do when you are 30 weeks pregnant with triplets). It was in that moment that I recognized and appreciated that God truly does have a sense of humor and knows exactly what we need when we need it. For me, it was a dead mole and a crazed cat, reminding me that, even in the most miserable of times, laughter truly can be the best medicine!