Last month, I talked a little about how people say they could never raise quadruplets. In the post, I talked about how having a positive attitude and raising the kids has been a faith growing experience. This month, I would like to talk about the help that we have received.
On our journey through infertility, Rebecca and I participated in a group called Grace Adventure. This group had nothing to do with infertility specifically, but it was a workshop to help people get rid of the junk in their life and come to terms with the individual that Christ wants them to be.
My journey for this group was to realize that I was not “superman” and that it was ok to seek help, and people would not see me as weak. Without traveling down the Grace Adventure road too far, “superman” was the mask I wore so that I would be untouchable. The description is fitting really because the character superman is an alien living on earth who looks like us but is always about humans, so never really fits in.
I mention all of this, because in the middle of the three month Grace Adventure class, Rebecca became pregnant with quadruplets. In order to survive the experience of having and raising quadruplets, we needed a lot of help, and by the Grace of God, we received that help. It was not easy for an arrogant man like myself to accept help, but luckily we did. I am eternally grateful for the assistance and realize that not everyone gets help in this world.
First, we had people all around the world praying for our pregnancy. I believe that if it wasn’t for those prayers, Becca’s pregnancy would not have gone as long as it did, and our children would have had a many more issues than they did.
Then the children were born and it was a very stressful time, but people again helped out. People again prayed for us, but others gave us money so that we could purchase a van and pay off some debt. My work was very generous and bought us a deep freeze filled with food so that we wouldn’t have to worry about cooking since I was spending most of my non-working hours at the hospital with our babies while Becca was with them all day.
When the kids came home, people would run by hot meals, women from a couple local churches would take shifts and spend all day with my wife to help out. The pastor of our former church would stay Friday nights so Rebecca could sleep one night in bed instead of an air mattress. One couple came by each week to do our laundry, and my buddy, Russ, came by and mowed my yard a couple of times (until the gas tank fell off, but that’s a story for another time).
These are just the things that I can remember. I am certain that we received more help that I have forgotten. I wish that I could say during all this I was gracious, but unfortunately that’s not true. Yes, we were incredibly stressed out and sleep deprived, but that was not an excuse. One sweet lady came over to help out, and I yelled at her because she wasn’t feeding the babies the way I wanted her to. I know I also raised my voice to my mom a few times. Again, these are the things I remember. I am sure I was nasty to other people.
I wasn’t always the best husband to my wife either. About a year after the children came home I ended up taking Prozac to help with the stress. I know there are some Christians that are against medicine such as this, and yes, I do prefer going the natural route when possible, but I think I can say my wife likes me more since I started taking Prozac. It has been helpful, and that’s what we needed.
We have been blessed with all of the help that we have received the past two and a half years. I wish that I could say that everyone has great experiences like we have, but sadly that is not the case. John 13:35 says (and I’m paraphrasing) that people will know we are Jesus’ Disciples by the love that we show one another. Many, many people have shown us Jesus. Now, if only we could show Jesus to more people.