Well I spoke about good health just a little too soon. S has been sick today with a fever and cough and sneezing. J leaves on a little overnight trip tomorrow so if you could please be remembering all of us, we'd appreciate it!
In the meantime, J & I have been banging our heads together trying to get this taxes thing figured out. We owe a crazy lot of money this year and couldn't seem to make heads or tails of it. Last year was frustrating too. We missed the overseas exemption by a couple weeks and the child deductions by even less which resulted in extra income taxes but nothing like this. So after checking and re-checking and adding and re-adding and wondering and looking and waiting til 11pm to make phone calls since that's 8am in Wyoming, I finally found our answer. There on the bottom of a random January statement was a random visit to a random steak and shake. My parents were getting ready to take S back home with them, having graciously stayed one day longer in St. Louis than planned. We were all tired of hospital walls and cafeteria food so we ventured out to the nearest place in the neighborhood with an allergy menu, leaving B in wonderful care of the fabulous Pediatric ICU at an amazing children's hospital. It was all I could do to force myself through that final door to the outside without my youngest baby.
The neighborhood was sketchy. The food was dry. The service, unbelievably slow. Shaddai was adorable. Her scant hair barely forming two tiny pigtails. I remember it more clearly than I remember yesterday.
My eyes blur with the memory. My hands instinctively cover my stomach. There we sat that day, no baby with us and no baby in my belly. It was beyond horrible, like my heart was trying to break in order to be in two places at once and what if it had been forever? What if he was still in the hospital? Us going about our every day lives with name tags and passcodes, planning our lives around visiting hours? What if we hadn't gotten him there in time? and now I was biding my time until I could meet him again?
A years worth of doctors' visits, tests, travel, hotels, meals on the road, copays, medications, multiple deductibles and more, totally over $10,000 US dollars (not including the $19,000 helicopter bill) and I'm happy to pay taxes on every last penny. So many pennies that were donated graciously and sacrificially to cover our unexpected expenses this year. By some twist of fate (and some pretty structured IRS laws) it all counts as income for us. Did you know that self-employed people pay taxes on the money they pay for taxes? Not to mention paying taxes on money spent on insurance (also not included in the aforementioned $10,000) and medical bills? All of that is counted as income. Bummer. Dude.
At first, I was frustrated by how seemingly unfair this appeared. But I quickly realized that what's unfair is mommies who are in debt for a lifetime over babies they will never hold. Or babies left on doorsteps because mommies can't afford their care.
This thing of owing extra money on taxes, it's not unfair. It's just math. And if there's one thing I took away from this year, it's that the One who made my son is very good at caring for us.
Amazingly enough, since starting this post, we now owe only $2,000 on taxes. We received tons of wise counsel from friends here and back home (thanks, Don!) and we are feeling better prepared for navigating taxes and putting away money for taxes for the upcoming years as medical expenses will be a normal part of our lives (hopefully not like 2012, hopefully just routine stuff from here on out). :)
We have so much to be thankful for! A son who is not only alive, but vivacious! Donors who make it possible for us to be here day in and day out! And precious friends and family who blew us away last year by their steadfast love and support!
And even though it was taxes that reminded me, I'm glad to have remembered. Remembered hearing that all the Ronald McDonald houses were full and booking that hotel across the street from the hospital and knowing He would provide. Remembered Benaiah's first snow that he didn't get to experience, pure white that covered the hospital courtyard and gathered in clumps along the sidewalk and the statue of the cardinal for whom the hospital was named. Remembered our friend, Toni, calling every evening to check on us - it was our one constant during otherwise unpredictable days. Remembered downloading a book about Benaiah's namesake in the hospital cafeteria and reading through tears exactly what my heart needed to hear. Remembered my parents being there for us, for whatever we needed. Remembered the entourage of early morning doctors and computers on wheels winding through the halls and trying to force myself to think clearly after so many sleepless nights as people said words that I'd never heard before. Remembered washing my arms up to my elbows like they do on TV medical shows just before entering the Neo-Natal ICU for the first time and thinking to myself through the haze of my own exhausted mind, "How can this be happening?" Remembered being so incredibly thankful for S's health as we watched her dance in the halls of a place normally full of sick children. Remembered the sunshine on my face and that tiny precious little mighty man in my arms as we finally left that place, altogether. It was good to remember. I needed to remember.
On a completely unrelated note: J had a great trip. I'll try to get him to blog about it. And now B and I are sick. B has the same thing S had earlier in the week. And I have a sore throat and cough, I think from staying up so late so many nights in a row to make phone calls. So hopefully tomorrow will be restful for all of us.