It’s early morning here in San Diego. The world outside is still asleep, but my mind is alive with thoughts and emotions. As I sit here in the quiet of our temporary home at La Jolla Family House, the reality of our journey settles around me like a soft blanket.
We’re here. We’ve made it to this critical juncture in Genesis’ health journey. The path to get here was fraught with challenges, denials, and what seemed like insurmountable obstacles. Yet, here we are, surrounded by the beauty of this place and the kindness of the people we’ve encountered.
It’s a strange juxtaposition – the gravity of why we’re here set against the backdrop of such a beautiful location. I’m keenly aware that in rooms around us, there are families facing their own battles, receiving life-saving treatments or anxiously waiting for their loved ones. It’s humbling, to say the least.
I watch Genesis, my brave girl, climbing flights of stairs without getting winded, and I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I know this is not the case for many families here. It’s by God’s grace that we’re in this position, and I don’t take it lightly.
As we approach Day 2 of evaluations, I find myself in a state of what I can only describe as “nervous hope.” Is that even a thing? The uncertainty of what today and tomorrow will bring is ever-present, yet it’s overshadowed by a deep-seated hope that refuses to be quieted.
I’m incredibly grateful for the outpouring of support we’ve received. The funds raised have lifted a huge burden off our shoulders. Being able to focus on Genesis’ care without the added stress of worrying about food or lodging in a new place is a blessing I can’t even begin to express adequately.
The prayers – oh, the prayers. From family members to complete strangers, we feel enveloped in a blanket of prayers. It’s as if we can feel the energy of all those thoughts and well-wishes surrounding us, holding us up when we feel weak.
Yet, as a mother, I can’t help but maintain that protective instinct. There’s a part of me that’s hesitant to get too comfortable, too optimistic. I suppose it’s a defense mechanism, a way to brace for whatever may come.
But here’s what I know for certain: whatever happens, God is with us. In every test, every consultation, every moment of waiting, He is there. And that knowledge gives me peace.
As we step into Day 2, I carry with me a heart full of gratitude for each moment. For the journey that brought us here, for the people who’ve supported us, for the medical team that will care for Genesis, and for the hope that burns bright within us.
To everyone reading this, thank you. Your support, your prayers, your kindness – they mean more than words can express. We feel your love from miles away, and it gives us strength.
Here’s to Day 2, to hope, to faith, and to the journey ahead. Whatever it brings, we’re ready to face it – together.
With a grateful heart,
Rachel
