A Father’s Faith: Holding the Fort While My Son Fought to Walk Again
In A Father’s Faith, this is something my husband has written documenting those early days of H’s illness.
We struggled for many weeks after H got sick. Between hospital stays, doctor visits, and treatments, we didn’t know if we were coming or going. At home, we had six other kids, so my wife bore the brunt of the medical responsibilities. She was virtually alone with Hunter in the hospital for many weeks. I had to stay home with the other six and hold down the fort.
It was a heavy burden for my wife, but we did what we had to do to provide the best care for H.
When he was home, he couldn’t dress himself, feed himself, and eventually, he couldn’t walk at all. He was in a wheelchair for several months. H had to endure all kinds of medications, hospital stays, and treatments. Our family struggled for a very long time after he got sick.
Eventually, we took him to a place in St. Augustine, FL—and a miracle happened. Doctors administered an intensive three-day therapy, and shortly afterward, he walked for the first time in several months. We rejoiced at the miracle God performed!
He gradually began walking again and regained his speech. However, he still had tremors in his arms and hands, but he was 1000% better than before. He still experiences those tremors and struggles with fine motor skills, but he has learned to adapt.
Today, H lives a fairly normal life. That doesn’t mean he has fully healed or stopped struggling. But all in all, I don’t think we would change a thing. Sure, our family dynamic changed dramatically when he got sick.
But the way I see it, if H hadn’t come to live with us, I’m not sure where he’d be today. So I believe everything happened exactly as it was supposed to. We thank God that He has healed H to the state of health he’s in now. H is truly a walking miracle of God.
Even though things have turned out mostly positive, the journey has been rough.
In the beginning, I felt helpless. Helpless that I couldn’t fix what was wrong. When H was in the hospital and my wife was alone with him, I knew I should have been there too—but I couldn’t be, because we had six other children to take care of. I felt like I had abandoned them, even though I didn’t really have a choice. Realistically, it was what had to happen—but that didn’t change the feelings or the emotions.
I felt like I wasn’t holding up my end of the parenting and decision-making with H, because I couldn’t be there. And then I started to question my faith.
Why was this happening and why us?
Honestly, why were we being separated like this?
And why was this happening to an innocent little boy?
I had to dig deep and remind myself that all things work together for good and for the glory of God. But the feelings of inadequacy were still there.
So I went to the hospital when I could. I took H to some of his treatments after he was released from the hospital. I went to as many doctor appointments as I could.
Today, his condition has stabilized, and we spend far less time in hospitals or with doctors. But we always remember when we were separated—and how it made us feel.
God saw us through the bad so we could come out on the other side and see His glory.
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