Category: Hospitals

Courage to Fall in Love With My Premature Babies

8/6/2014

At first I was afraid to love them. Ashamed I even dreaded going into that room where their little bodies lay under plastic, hooked up to monitors, their lungs moving as machines ensured their lungs would breathe and liquid running into their veins made sure they kept on living. Every time a doctor walked up to us I felt like I was dying, just a little. Every time the phone rang my heart would drop. My world was torn and I was trapped in a nightmare. If they survived, the doctors said, they would stay in the hospital for months.

I stood on the brink, ready to jump into one of two deep pools. Because I could no longer stay where I was and remain sane I could feel my heart falling either into a deep resentment for what God had allowed or a faith that would challenge me to see each moment as a gift.

I stood on that brink far too long, building up walls, trying not to have to take responsibility for anything.

But then I jumped.

Suddenly a face obscured by plastic tubing was beautiful. The eyes that blinked out at me from below an IV line were precious. And those girls that scared me more than death itself became my daughters.

I fell deep deep into a love that will never break.

God gave me this. He gave me the courage to take a chance on a broken heart. He gave me the strength to step forward when fear was holding me in place. He showed me how to laugh during times of grief and smile even when disaster seems eminent.

And today I’m holding my girls again. My arms wrap around their growing bodies, devoid of IV lines with lungs that nearly hold their own in the world. I know, as surely as if it were a palpable, touchable thing, that grace is real. That miracles happen.

Newborn photos by Falling Star Photography

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Not Fearing His Plans

5/12/2014

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I can't count how many times over the years I've called my Mom or Dad for comfort. It was a rough week again. I'm in the hospital. This time it is for a shortened cervix--the only thing that hadn't yet went wrong in this pregnancy. I'm here on bed rest until the babies come and fighting fear with almost every breath. We're only at 23 weeks. My little girls need more time if they are to survive.

So, I'm listening to the ever comforting voice of my Dad yesterday when something he says shoots straight to my heart. "Sweetheart. God has given you these babies for a reason. They are special to Him. They must be. Look at what they have already survived. He has great plans for them."

He has great plans for them. For my unborn babies. He knows their futures. He knows their hearts, the same hearts He's healed, defying all odds.

And when all this hit me, I felt humbled. He is allowing Me to be their mother. He picked my husband to be their father. He has entrusted us with two souls that are special to him.

So I prayed. I prayed for Him to guide me. Help me be the mother these little ones need. Help me not be afraid, because He wouldn't have set this before me if He hadn't known I was the woman for the task.

Funny, isn't it? If you read that verse proclaiming that God has great and good plans for us, you can face any challenge with peace. Peace that the world is just as it should be.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11

Wherever we are, whatever challenges, tasks, worries, and hurts we face, we can face the great plans God has for us and have no fear.

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All Things for Good.... Even This

4/11/2014

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Use it all God. Every hurt, Every heartbeat. I give it all to you. You use all things for good. Use me.

As I pray those words I can feel it, like a spring bulb emerging from the soil, life is coming out of the coldness and promising beauty.

Right now, my life is in a tender season where every hurt is deep and hard and every joy is brilliant as the sun.

God, in His great wisdom, has given me identical twin girls who now a battle a rare sickness before they are even born. And this has thrown my world upside-down. I left my husband in Russia to see the amazing medical professionals here in the United States. I left my daughter with my mother-in-law while I underwent surgery this week. I lie in bed now trying not to let every worry and doubt shatter my faith into pieces.

But, with every breath, I feel strength of a new and amazing kind burn within me. God is taking me to new heights, burning away the old and replacing it with a new kind of love and power that comes from Him.

And everywhere I look I start to see the changes and am amazed. I am closer to my mother-in-law, loving and appreciating her undaunted insistence to care for her family. I see and admire the strength and love of my sister who has taken me in to care for me even as she juggles her own full life. I thank God daily for the courage and trust of my husband who always knows just what to say to take away my worries and encourage me and I can feel his loving arms around me even though we are oceans apart.

Even when I had to go to Houston for surgery and every moment was a challenge just to remember to focus and breathe and pray, I was blessed with physicians, surgeons, and nurses who cared enough to hold my hand and even hug me in the hard moments. And my brother-in-law who has no experience with pregnancies and babies, took time off of work so that he could see me though the procedure, make me laugh in the hospital, and see me safely back home again.

I can see God smiling at me through every crack in this topsy-turvey world. His love shines out at me through a thousand souls who pray for us, hug us, love us, and offer a helping hand.

So, God, let me not see this as a time of pity, but a time for your power. Use it all for Your great good. I give it all to you.

Photo by Fountain_Head via Flikr

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When Fear Threatens Faith

12/6/2013

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I was doing her hair that morning. Putting all that baby hair into it's little top-knot when the fear rolled over me and I could think and feel nothing else. Somewhere, deep inside me, I knew God waited with a well of peace, but right then my thoughts raced. Who would take down her hair? What will she be like in a few hours after surgery? What will happen to my little girl?

An over-active imagination at this point only gives the devil amazing amounts of fuel for torment. And, I couldn't fight it.

I had to almost gag down my breakfast. But I had to eat. When would we get a chance to eat again? My husband and I knew that frustration and low-energy brought on by hunger would do nobody any favors on this day. The doctor had told us to meet him at the children's ward so that he and the surgeon could make a decision about what to do with my little Adela--remove her swollen lymph node or drain an abscess that they suspected was deep within the mass of tissue.

God, oh God, why can't I feel your peace? Is there any way to feel you, hear you right now?

I was drowning in the fear. And then I remembered someone telling me to read Psalms on that day.

So I did. And peace fought its way back into my heart.

I needed something exterior of my own pain to force an idea of God's grace into my head.

But it didn't end there. The whole day was a fight for calm. A fight for patience. A fight to retain faith that in every way God was reigning over our lives and His will would be done.

The pediatrician and surgeon looked Adela over and decided to go in first and try to drain what they though was an abscess. I dressed up in the gown and cap so I could be with her when she fell asleep and them my husband and I sat out in the waiting area. Waiting. Trying not to drown in the fear.

I knew in my head that God was there. I kept praying, thanking him for being part of my life, but the fear for my little girl threatened the strength of my faith. The faith in His promises.

Yet He was truly with us the entire time. The surgery went well and when I held her in my arms again, felt the deep breaths of her body and heard her childish babble, fear gave way to thankfulness.

Oh, God, I am such a child still, needing so many reminders of how carefully you watch over us. Forgive my doubts. Train me to forget my worries. Help me to always feel your grace deep in my soul.

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Praying for Healing. Believing in Him.

11/20/2013

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Under the Knife

6/19/2013

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I walked into the hospital clutching a brown paper bag of surgery supplies and trying to continue to breath. Next to me my husband held my hand and my mother-in-law chatted away about how excited she was to meet her first grandchild. But me...well, I was just trying not to dissolve into the weakness of a panic attack.

In my head I waged a war of battling fears. How many times had I already told myself that everything would be fine? So what if they had needed me to go buy my own anesthesia, gauze, etc and find my own blood donors? Yes, in the States that would never happen but here it was common practice. Babies still made it into the world...even in this hospital that didn't have soap in the bathrooms. Breath. It was ok. God was with me. But my emotions were being held together by threads as wispy as spider webs.

Oh, God! I breathed those two words over and over. Oh, God, Oh God.

Most of all, I needed to keep my mind off the horrors. In the tiny hospital of a Patagonia town I was going to go under the knife as an over-worked gynecologist brought my daughter into the world. The million and a half things that could go wrong danced inside my head like naughty little demons.

I could feel the terror building up inside me as the nurse came to take me away. My husband gave me a kiss and Mamá hugged me, but they couldn't travel into the surgery ward with me. I was alone. The nurse talked away in Spanish and the words got all scrambled up in my head. I could feel my breath coming short and shallow and begged myself to stay calm. This will all be over soon. Everything is going to be fine. Just fine. I'll be holding my little girl before I know it.

Another surgery was underway and I was ushered into a room with a TV. The nurse started me on an IV drip of something and I had no idea what was coming into me through the tube. Whatever it was, it did nothing to calm me down and I could only stare blankly at the remote in my hand. A jittery chuckle blasted from my trembling lips as I looked at it...nothing playing on TV could possibly help right now. I closed my eyes and begged the fear away, feeling my strength beginning to crumble with my terror.

God, please, please, please. Get me through this. Let me stay strong and do whatever I need to do to help this go well. Be with my daughter. Be with the doctor.

Something eased within my chest...a completely unearthly feeling.. like a strange detachment and serenity came over me. The anesthesiologist came in and smiled at me. I smiled back. When he spoke I was surprised that the Spanish words were no longer scrambled and bizarre. He was talking to me about a cousin of his who had been to the United States. It wasn't everyday an American woman opted to have her child in their small seaside town. I asked him about the IV drip, thinking they must have started me on drugs since I felt so peaceful. He laughed and said it was only nutrients since I had been fasting. He was going to administer the epidural for the surgery.

I didn't hardly feel the needle when he gave me the epidural but eventually I felt the medicine take over and I was wheeled to the surgery room. Everything happened so fast. A sheet went up. A nurse reminded me not to talk. And I laid there peacefully wondering at the calmness that had begun long before I had came into the room.

Then I heard the most exciting sound in the world. A little cry, one unhappy little whimper, and then a grumpy newborn with pudgy cheeks and black hair was nestled next to me. I broke the rules and spoke. How could I not? "Hello. Wow, you're so beautiful. Hello, love. Hello." I begged the nurse to tell me if she was ok and the lady laughed. My daughter was perfect. Oh, God, Thank you!

But I must not speak more, the doctor was still finishing the surgery.

That peace stayed with me even after they took my baby away, and finished the surgery. It wasn't until I got back to my husband and saw the bundle in his arms that any tears came from my eyes. The great waves of fear and anxiety washed over me in a gentle crest of emotion. God had held back that storm.

"She's beautiful, Honey." My husband said. I nodded, but couldn't stop crying for a while. Finally I took a deep breath and took up that precious child in my arms. Every baby brought into this world is a miracle and my daughter was no exception. And I'll never forget that experience as God walked with me through my nightmares and held my hand until I was back in the light.

"And surely I am with you always..."
Matthew 28:20

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Miracles Happen Everyday

Courage to Fall in Love With My Premature Babies

Not Fearing His Plans

All Things for Good.... Even This

When Fear Threatens Faith

Praying for Healing. Believing in Him.

Under the Knife

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