Step.

Okay-
I tried to reason about this.
I tried to give the benefit of the doubt.
I said a little prayer about this.
I cried about this.
I phoned Tasha and vented this.
I came home and jotted it in my notebook so I could 'Get Over It!'

Still.
I am replaying it in mind over and over.

This scene will happen again.
How will I handle it next time?
Will I be patient?
Will I throw a fit?
Will I ignore it?
Will I just act like it is nothing?

What kind of example will -I- choose to set?

I can run for miles and miles. Well, I haven't quite worked back up to that, but in my time before babies and in the short spans in between babies, I run. It is taking me a little longer than normal to jump back into things this time around, but I'll be back. I have a small constant dedicated group of girls that I run with early in the mornings. We have ran a 1/2 marathon together and many other races. Each step took time, commitment, determination, stamina and a lot of sweat.

Each morning we would find a balance. Lauren is tall; so I am sure she slows down. I am the shortest at 5'6 so I speed up. Suzanne hits somewhere in the middle, so more than likely she is the tempo. Either way, we always adjusted. No one had to say a word. We just took step after step after step. A Rhythm.

This morning I unexpectedly found myself (and Ivey) entering into a new race of steps.

As I pulled into the parking lot to visit her pediatrician, which is also shared with the hospital, I forced myself to drive toward the handicap parking spaces. I swallow selfish pride each time I do this. 'I' have no reason to be there, but my daughter does. Many times I have allowed my own tendencies to prevail and parked further away because I stroll her where ever we go, at Ivey's expense. Stubbornly saying to myself that I will teach her to be strong, to not be an exception. Why would we need special privileges?

We don't - She does.

As I pulled past the handicap spaces, I watched two individuals emerge from their cars and briskly walk toward the hospital. It was cool this morning. All spaces were now full. I told myself that they must have a heart condition. Obviously, they did not have a bad back or a limp. I drove on...saying a little prayer that God would zap them into doing the right thing next time. He can do that right?

I drove the up - down of the rows. Nothing.

The space we found was the next to the last spot on the last row. We actually parked right next to Beth and Willie's truck - with Lotto inside.

...............................................................

I get out of the minivan, heave out the stroller, roll up to the side of the minivan and begin placing Ivey's equipment strategically in the stroller. Heart monitor in the basket underneath the seat, pulse-ox on the jump seat...and then I stop.

A man is trying to pull his minivan into the very last spot of the isle next to me. The last spot, get it while it's hot, right? He can't; I am taking up half of his space.

Pulse - ox begins to alarm.

Hope he's patient. I must address this.

Ivey needs suctioning. Pulse-ox still alarming, yet baby isn't blue.

Man is now inching his way into the parking spot. Doesn't he see me standing here with Revelations unleashing right in front of him?

Oops. Now the heart monitor is alarming. It's okay, a lead just came off of her chest.

This man is actually tapping his watch at me! Tapping on his steering wheel. Now he is rolling his eyes!

Okay. Alarms are under control.
Now, pink bag in the stroller. (Pink bag contains emergency supplies.) Pink notebook over the stroller handle bar. (Pink notebook contains all of Ivey's medical history.) Suction machine on my shoulder. Purse is a backpack - got it too. Where is the baby? (Still in the car.)

He is still inching his way into the parking spot. Does he not see the baby being transferred from the car to the stroller?

Okay, let's go. Stop. Ivey needs suctioning again. (There's some fumbling around here trying to juggle full hands and the pressure to be quick, even though M.Y D.A.U.G.H.T.E.R C.A.N'T B.R.E.A.T.H.E R.I.G.H.T T.H.I.S M.O.M.E.N.T!

(Ivey's trach must be suctioned or she can't breathe through the mucus and her oxygen levels drop.)

This man has actually pulled his car so that I can't turn the stroller around. He has actually pulled so that the stroller barely fits between our two cars. Is He SERIOUS?

I managed to squeeze between our minivans without making contact with the man. And for a fleeting moment, I was thankful that my daughter could not see the lack of patience on that mans face. The steps across the parking lot this morning had more meaning to them than any step I have ever taken in my life. I am almost certain this scene will happen again.

..............................................................
Over the past couple of days I have received several emails and phone calls. Everyone wants to know what they can do to help.

I have my answer.

Make a difference. You will all be out doing some serious shopping over the next few weeks. Be the one to WILLINGLY park in the last space of the parking lot isle. Be THANKFUL that you can take those steps. To most of us those steps are taken for granted; they are not. Each step you take is a true GIFT from God. Ivey may or may not ever walk. Time will tell. EMBRACE each step, be GRATEFUL that you have two strong legs to carry you, even if it seems inconvenient at the time. Be thankful that you can independently take those steps. Remember this season the true meaning of this wonderful life you are embarking upon and just how precious it is.
-Become the Give, not the Take-

You may give a gift to someone who takes larger steps each day just to live. It is all in the rhythm of life.

I have three children and their steps will be filled with precious time, commitment, determination, stamina and a lot of sweat. I will step-up and set the example. They will learn the balance of what matters in life: slow down here, speed up there, be the tempo other times. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.......