Make Me Equal to the Task

{BACKGROUND: Our third child Bri, a beautiful two-year old, has an inherited metabolic disorder, PKU. Her liver is deficient in an enzyme needed to properly metabolize one of the amino acids in protein.  If she ate the same food as the rest of us, it would cause severe mental disability and a whole slew of other problems. Thankfully, these can be avoided through the implentation of a diet that is naturally low in protein.  This requires us to meticulously measure, calculate, and document her daily consumption of appropriate foods, many of which must be made from scratch or purchased online from specialty stores.}

After getting past the initial shock of Bri's diagnosis, I can honestly count on one hand the times I have had a "meltdown" over the reality of her health difference.  I have generally been able to take it in stride and just do what needs to be done. I know the Lord has blessed me with the ability to do this and I am so grateful for that.  Well, tonight I got to chalk another mini meltdown onto the list.

Bri does so well with her PKU. The challenges with the diet will increase as she gets older and becomes more aware that she isn't eating the same as everyone else.  She is already starting to notice it a little bit but never fusses when I tell her a food is a food is "too high phe" {short for phenylalanine} and get her something else. She doesn't cry when we have to prick her big toe for her blood tests each week. She loves her "protein shake" that she drinks three times a day to meet her protein needs. She is such a good girl about it all.

My goal from the start has always been to make sure that she has good food options available, even if it is different from the rest of us.  The older she gets, the more I am realizing that to truely accomplish this will require increased planning and ability on my part.

This was illustrated acutely to me tonight at dinner.  We were having Navajo tacos and scones with honey butter {yum!}, which were delicious, but required a lot of multi-tasking and constant work from start to finish to get the dough made, fryer ready, condiments prepared, honey butter mixed, scones fried, etc. {My husband pitched in well.} 

By the time it was all ready, the older two kids were 'starving' and complaining at the table. Bri was also seated at the table, and it was at this point that I realized that I didn't have anything prepared for her to eat.  She was being so happy and telling me, "Thanks, Mom!" - even as she sat there with an empty plate in front of her. She didn't have enough of her allotted daily protein allowance left to eat some of her usual quick dinner options, so she ended up with a plate of lettuce and ranch {and a tangelo, but she didn't want that. "Too sour."}

As we were eating, I watched her across the table, and my mother heart broke just a little bit.
Which was weird - because she was as happy as can be! She was downing that lettuce like it was the best thing she had ever eaten and even happily humming as she did it.  She gave me no reason to feel sad for her.
But oh, how I did!  Luckily, the tears didn't come until I was cleaning up, but I was aching for two reasons.   First, as the rest of us were eating our assortment of yummy foods that had been carefully planned and prepared, she was eating - lettuce.  And second, I knew it was a lack of thought and planning ahead on my part that caused it. 

I don't want you to get worried about me. I usually do a better job at making sure she has yummy food to eat. And I know that her success in life and her ability to deal with her health difference will not be aided by me feeling pitiful about it. But oh, tonight, I just wanted that beautiful little face to not have those challenges! But I know that the Lord will make her equal to them, just as He can increase my abilities to properly care for her.

It will be interesting to find out if our new little baby has PKU as well.  Scientists would tell me that he has a 25% chance of having it.  But I know that really, the outcome is up to the Lord. When I think about the possibility of him having PKU, a wide array of thoughts run through my mind.  Ultimately though, I have come to realize through this journey with PKU that I must just have faith and trust in God and His plan for my children. 

Mothering has taught me a great lesson about what faith is. The faith I have in God is not faith that He will remove the challenges.  The faith that sustains me is trusting that God has an intentional plan for each of us. That He has a plan for each of my children and He has a plan for me.  And that because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, He can make us each equal to the challenges and blessings we are given. And I am so grateful that I know this is true.  So that tonight I can have my moment and cry, and tomorrow, He can make me better.