The Man At The Waterfall

 I cried tears of pain and anger and confusion and peace yesterday. A wild day...

Our little Heidi has had a tough go this year (and really all her years) with her lungs. 


But yesterday, we got some long overdue answers.


Heidi is part of a small group of people (that will probably grow with time) that likely and unbeknownst to us and doctors in December of 2019 contracted COVID… She wasn't yet in her 10th week of life. 


Like the rest of the world, we didn't know it at the time and there was little that could be done then (or really can be even now). But now that she is growing up and getting bigger and continuing to develop, her lungs are not exactly what we would expect…and that's seeming to be a normal trend of our now toddlers who were then infants when COVID hit them. 


Heidi is going to be treated like an asthma patient for awhile - possibly forever - but it's not asthma that she has. It's still very much unfolding in the medical world. It hasn't been really defined what this is going to be called or how long we can expect this to last for our little people population. Doctors expect Heidi to have many join her club as all the littles (late 2019 babies - mid 2021 babies) grow into their lungs that fought a tough battle early in life.



I cried in the parking lot as I buckled her up in car. Because I didn't protect her? Because I didn't know? Because she doesn't deserve this? Just because when I get so mad, I cry?


"What a shitty place this is, Lord." I said in my head. And then I apologized for such a horrible prayer. Why such a medicine shortage for our babies? Why so much suffering? Why now at this season on my life? Why sweet baby Heidi?



I cried a little more and prayed (if you dare call it that) a little more as life swept in... back to the hardware store for a couple hours of work and then home to a learn how to set-up her nebulizer for daily breathing treatments that will become our new normal moving into 2023.


After the kids fell asleep I sat in the living room surrounded by new tubing and nebulizer directions and tissues and sippy cups and blankets and a lone dirty sock. Crusty dishes to the ceiling in the kitchen, my own eyes red with tiredness, and the only light glowing from the Christmas tree - ornaments heavy on the bottom and sparce on the top. I smiled instead this time...Kids. Got to love them.



I then felt suddenly compelled to pray to the Patron Saint of Lung Health and Respiratory Illness. So I looked him or her up. 

And my jaw hit the floor.

His name is Saint  Bernardino. And when I saw a painting of him and said out loud in the quiet of my wrecked living room: "It's him. The man at the waterfall." 


I’ve never forgotten about the wildly vivid dream I had the week I found out I was pregnant with Heidi. I haven't thought about it in years, but it was so vivid, I still can see the landscape and the man with the basket to this day. I included my Facebook post (from the day Heidi was born, retelling of a dream I had on February 12th, 2019) below:






The kind man with the funny balding pattern and large kind eyes, I immediately recognized in these pictures as the man from my dream. The dream came flooding back in an instant. A dream I hadn't thought about in YEARS.



No pictures I found online were dead ringers of him, as the man in my dreams couldn't had been a day over 30, but the ones included are very very close in some of features in different ways:


In the days after my dream, I searched the web to find a picture of him. But I didn't know his name or really what to search for... and frankly, didn't even know if I'd find a dang thing because it's just a silly dream... right? I never did find anyone who looked much like him, and time and life happened and I didn't spend any more searching.


Saint Bernardino - the Patron Saint of Lung Health (and public speaking and words... oh, my heart...) - held my Heidi in a basket in a dream... a dream so real that when I woke, I knew for certain I was pregnant. And I was. It was him. It was her.


The man at the waterfall had me turning into a waterfall. 

And when I closed my wet eyes, I could see his beautiful kind ones.


Yesterday, after taking all this in, I know now that we are safe. We are going to be okay.

We may suffer in this world. And we will.

We may be a mess. And we are.

But there are Saints. And there very much is a loving God.




I'll leave you in song and lyrics, as I love to do:


" If the flowers can find their way up through the fallen snow
And if the icy Christmas wind can find the strength to blow
If the stars deep in the dark can find the light to glow
Then even on my darkest day, I too can find the hope.
So, I will open up my heart like a kid on Christmas Eve
When the dreams are as real as the lights up on the tree
And what you choose to look for is what you're gonna see
So, if only for tonight, I will believe.

I will believe. "




May God bring you peace and health this Christmas Season and always.


Merry Christmas,

Samantha

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