Bleeding

So, if your son gets cut, will he just keep bleeding? Like, until he dies?

No. I get asked that, all the time.

Cuts stop eventually. It is the bleeding you can't see that does the damage.

Eden has had a bleed in his ankle, in the spaces between his joint. Not a big bleed, but a tiny leak that gives him a little limp when he walks. A grimace when he jumps. He runs, though, undeterred.
That's my boy.

More than anyone I know that physical beauty and perfect health are not what makes life fulfilling, but looking at my golden boy running in the sun makes me happy, and it is hard to think of his joints being wrecked and ruined by a slow insidious leak. So off to the hospital we go.

He looks good, says the ER doc. I hate to stick him, but if the hematologist says we gotta treat..
he shrugs. He looks good to me, too, but for all my boldness and knowledge I am afraid not to believe the blood doctor who says we have to treat or Eden may not be able to run again, ever.

It is the small internal wounds that sneak up on us, and cause us damage. We thought we could keep running, that we could ignore the nagging pain, but it eats away. We need blood to heal us, to make us whole. I look at my sons, and this is my legacy to them. I have always known I was incomplete, needing someone else's blood and life to make me whole. It hurts like hell to watch my children as this realization hits them, but there it is. The truth is everyone around us is just as broken. Perhaps we are fortunate that we have no illusions. Sorry, babies, no illusions for us, but there is love, and healing, and peace. Some kisses and ice cream, too. That is what your mama has to offer, and all I have is this little mustard seed to tell me it's enough.