Car seats, surgery & provision
I just got off the phone with Seattle Children’s. Arabella’s open heart surgery is officially scheduled for October 5th.
We’ve known it’s coming for a long time. We knew even before she was born, that if somehow she had enough lung tissue to survive, heart surgery would be necessary at some point. In fact, we thought surgery would be necessary at a much younger age. The fact that she’s done so well until age two is a wonderful gift.
But still. An actual date written on the calendar? A month before where she needs to be kept healthy and cold free (right at the start of the preschool year…Jesus help us)? The thought of my little girl’s chest being opened up, her heart stopped so that a wall can be constructed, valves repaired. The mark of a warrior permanently etched down her chest.
Yep, that’s enough to get this mama trembling. And that’s before even starting to consider what it’s going to look like to care for my three month old during a hospital stay and recovery. Don’t get this detail-oriented brain started down that track.
Shiloh had her two week check-up earlier this week. This visit included a rundown of the early signs of heart failure to watch for. Swelling in specific locations, duskiness and/or sweating while eating, blue lips and fingertips. Add that to a constant watch of breathing patterns, of wondering where O2 sats are currently sitting. And concerns over weight gain, which means keeping feedings to a tight schedule…and wondering always, is she getting enough to be gaining enough? And after Bella’s tummy issues, there’s the vigilant checking of diapers for any sign of blood, the watching for rashes developing, the hope and prayers that I’ll be able to continue to breastfeed.
Yep, I don’t have to search very far or wide to find something to be anxious about.
We just witnessed a miracle. Again. We watched the Lord provide in a multitude of small and large things, at just the right time. I hope to sit down soon and try to recount just some of those things. For you to be encouraged, yes, but even more so so I don’t forget.
But I’m just like those Israelites. Powerfully, incredibly freed from Egypt…and almost immediately tempted to wring my hands and wonder where the next meal is going to come from.
There are lots of unknowns…and scary knowns…coming up in the next few months. But I am surviving…thriving…by doing my best to stay present in the grace of the gift of this moment. And all I have to do is open my eyes, look around me, and remember, and so much of that anxiety immediately dissipates.
One of those reminders my eyes fall on each day is Shiloh’s car seat. If you follow our little family on instagram, you’re probably already familiar with the story.
We lost (or more accurately, Alaska Airlines lost) our infant car seat traveling this past winter. Since Bella was imminently graduating from said car seat and we had a soon to expire old infant car seat, we hadn’t bothered to replace it. However, as we approached Shiloh’s birth, a debate began. We knew we would need a car seat for the car seat test at the hospital…if Shiloh had lungs large enough to breathe on this earth. But, knowing the unknowns surrounding her birth, we didn’t really want to invest in a brand new seat that might not be used. So did we take the now expired seat with us to the hospital, with the intent of immediately replacing it if we got to bring a baby home? That is what we eventually settled on, although I was a little concerned that the hospital might not let us take home a baby in an expired seat.
Fast forward to my arrival at the Ronald McDonald house (another provision…a room opened up literally hours before I needed it). A family notices my large belly and approaches to ask if I had need of a car seat. They had family visiting from overseas for two weeks who had purchased a brand new seat for their three month old. They now had no use for the seat that had barely been used and wanted to give it to me if I had need of it. Fighting back tears, I explained what a gift that would be. They brought me the seat and I once again was moved to tears when I realized it was the exact seat that would fit into the stroller we already have.
And now I strap a beautifully breathing little girl into that seat almost every day and I remember. Remember how at the right time, Jesus provided just what we needed. He has been faithful, and He will be faithful.
And so, I take a few deep breaths, and we march on. One grace-filled day at a time.
I rejoice with the news that you and Shiloh are both here. Without a post for weeks, I began to imagine a different outcome. May Our Lord continue to bless your family in all parts of your journey.