My list

You may think that we returned from our momentous day in Seattle on Monday and went blissfully to sleep with praise on our lips.

Can I let you in on a little secret – lest you think my faith is greater than it actually is?

I went to bed sobbing that night.

It had been an exhausting and emotional day. An exhausting and emotional day for a momma with raging hormones. And while the news was encouraging even beyond expectations, it suddenly swung the door wide open to a whole new massive pile of fears, concerns and unknowns. In case you haven’t caught on yet, I’m a detail person. I’m one of those people you hand the big picture vision to and I immediately start to list out the 563 steps you need to take to get there.

And on Monday night those 563 steps were clamoring around in my brain and I maybe knew the answer to two of them. There was the fact that I was now certainly going to need to relocate to Seattle a few weeks ahead of my due date to ensure delivery there. Where will I stay? Will I be able to find a place near the hospital? Jeff won’t be able to take that many weeks off of work, so I’m going to have to go alone, at least at first. Which means, since I will be awaiting the arrival of a high risk baby at any moment it probably wouldn’t be smart to have my toddler with me. So who’s going to take care of my toddler? How will my toddler interpret Mommy’s absence? How is this going to affect her attachment to me? What will I eat in Seattle (seriously, that’s one of the 563 items)? If I’m staying with someone, will I feel comfortable cooking for myself? How long will I even be there? If Bella has heart surgery soon after birth, this could be a long time. What will it be like to be in a high stress situation far from home and my support system? Will I be able to care for the medical needs of a special needs baby? I was freaked out about my healthy daughter’s well-being when I brought her home – how incredibly on edge am I going to be with a baby with a delicately balanced heart defect? And back to, oh my goodness how is this all going to impact Eliana? How do I mother her well?

I’ll spare you the rest of the list. But the cumulative effect of that list growing and staring me in the face was deep, gut-wrenching sobs. Of choking out barely discernible rational and irrational fears to my husband. And then falling asleep in utter exhaustion.

I woke up at 4am the next morning. Jesus’ current favorite time to meet with me. And I felt the call to sit and write and reflect and remember the incredible happenings of the previous day.

You see, I was acting just like those bumbling Israelites we love to shake our heads at. They had just seen the Lord do amazing, miraculous, unfathomable things to rescue them from Egypt. And then they almost immediately fell into a panic – “WHAT ARE WE GOING TO EAT?!?!” As if God went to all the trouble of releasing them from the most powerful nation in the world just to let them starve in the wilderness. You see them fret and it’s so easy to say, “Come on, guys! You of all people should know the God you serve! Get a grip – of course He’s going to provide!”

There’s a reason the word “remember” is one of the most frequent commands in the book of Deuteronomy.

And so I have my list of “remembering” that I go through when fear starts to swell in my heart. When I start to think I’m the one responsible for figuring this all out. When I start to think that yes, God has brought me this far, but now it’s in my hands. And do you want to know the immediate effect of reciting this list? Peace. Praise. Contentment to rest in this day, instead of rushing into the worries of tomorrow. And so I share this list, and I call you as well to take courage. We serve a great and marvelous God. And there might just be something to His command to remember.

• Two months ago, Arabella’s thoracic cavity measured at less than the first percentile. Not even on the charts. Monday, her thoracic cavity was solidly at the 11th percentile. Stop and pause for a moment. That is HUGE.
• Two months ago, the genetic counselor made a passing reference to Bella’s heart defect – just so we didn’t see it later on in her charts and wonder why no one had mentioned it. This wasn’t what was going to kill her, so it was not discussed in detail. This Friday we will have an echo (on a baby in the womb – praise the Lord for modern medicine!) to get a detailed analysis of her heart and start to figure out at what point it would be best for her to have surgery.
• One month ago we were discussing the possibility and potential benefits of autopsy. Monday the genetic counselor told us that while prior to that day’s findings she had autopsy on her list of discussions, we no longer needed to talk about it at this point.
• Two months ago a genetic counselor, and then two doctors, each told us that there was no chance Arabella’s thoracic cavity would grow enough for lung development. They said from that point on there would be little to no growth in her thoracic cavity. Since then, her thoracic cavity has grown 8 weeks developmentally.
• Two months ago, we were told our daughter likely had a syndrome that translates “seek death baby.” We were told her condition was sadly, but definitively, lethal. Monday, the OB (and the most pessimistic doctor of the day) said, “If today was the first time I was seeing this baby, I could not give a lethal diagnosis. This is a different baby than what we saw two months ago.”
• Two months ago the birth plan involved deciding where we wanted to spend our precious few moments with our daughter. Monday, the birth plan involved the potential treatments she might need as she transitions to breathing on her own.
• Two months ago we were researching cemeteries. Today we’re discussing how our current house might present challenges in the coming years for our daughter.

Two months ago, I sobbed at the impossible dream that Jeff described when writing to his daughter:

Oh, how I want to bring you home, Poppy, where cuddles with mom, dad and sister will be abundant and Ellie will apply her kisses directly to your face.  She will tell you all about animals.  And doggies.  And the noises doggies make.  She might even tell you about the “monkey.”  Curious George is a big hit in our house. Mom will do her baby swing and rock you into a blissful sleep as only she can do.  Daddy will try to do his best not to mess up, but forgive him as he means well.  There will be laughing, tears of joy and a dissipation of all the fears and tension that the terrible T-word brought.  What a celebration we would have.

Today, that does not seem like such an impossible dream.

As always, there is no guaranteed outcome to this story. But when we look back and remember, we are overcome with the undeniable fact that our God is good. Our God is faithful. Our God is with us. And what can we do but praise Him?

Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children. – Deuteronomy 4:9

You give life, You are love
You bring light to the darkness
You give hope, You restore
Every heart that is broken

Great are You, Lord

It’s Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
We pour out our praise
To You only

All the earth will shout
Your praise
Our hearts will cry
THESE BONES WILL SING
Great are You, Lord

-All Sons & Daughters