[originally posted in 2019 as A Letter For The Minute Before]
Dear 2012 Self,
Tonight, you are about to climb into bed – utterly beyond caring after days of worry – too tired to do more than collapse.
I know you saw how Chase’s hand shook when he was taking off his shoes in the hallway tonight. I know you saw it and it stopped and so you doubted yourself. I know you’re secretly really angry because the doctors aren’t listening to you and don’t know.
It’s okay.
Everybody wishes they could see things more clearly at times. Everybody wishes other people had the answers when they haven’t a clue.
Tomorrow morning is going to come earlier than you think and it’s going to bring the answers you’ve been wanting so desperately, but they will come with a price. A big one. Chase is in more trouble than you think he is.
So sleep deep tonight. And when Darcy comes into your room in just a few hours, listen to her the first time – she knows what she saw.
[Oh, and for the love… put on a bra before the firemen and paramedics walk through the door – you’ll wish you had it on all day.]
Kiss everyone extra sweet and hug them all a little tighter when you tuck them in. Everything you know right now is going to twist and vault like a bad case of vertigo.
You are about to find out that you’re both weaker and stronger than you think. And that God’s love and grace is worth it all – despite all the times you will scream and fight and hate Him just a little bit for what will feel like unanswered prayer.
We know Chase was the accident baby. The one who showed up despite the birth control. But I think you’ve always known in your heart that he was special. And we’ve confirmed it a thousand more times since you first thought it when you held him tight at birth.
So sleep deep for these last few hours before everything changes.
This isn’t your fault. It’s nothing you did or did not do. That’s not how this works.
It’s okay to cry. And believe me, because it seems crazy, but joy will come when you least expect it – even as you sob.
Give yourself grace and be real because it’s about to get really intense.
Life is precious.
Sending you a big hug from 2022 –
Your Ten-Year-Older Self
