And the roller coaster continues

This there and back again appointment day has been long, and I’m travel weary, but there are so many of you praying for, loving, and cheering on Miss Shiloh that I thought it only fair to give you an update tonight. This post will be neither long, nor eloquent, but merely a quick recap of the day.

We were at the Children’s Prenatal clinic again today, as Shiloh had an echo in addition to her standard ultrasound. We started out with the echo, and little Miss continued in her stubborn ways, choosing the most difficult position and refusing to budge. But eventually we were able to get good enough pictures to confirm things are continuing to grow and develop for the most part as expected. There were a couple little things that they’ll follow up on next month, but her heart continues to look like it will be able to function tolerably well until she’s big enough for surgery.

But we all know it wasn’t the echo that we were really concerned about today. Today was all about the ultrasound and all about one measurement in particular. Would there be promising growth in our girlie’s rib cage? Or would the frighteningly slow growth trend of the previous month continue? Numbers popped up on the screen – but not in data we can discern. The week measurement we were so eager to see would be announced later in a conference with the doctor. However, I can honestly say at this point the only thing I was feeling was peace and joy…and pure delight at watching my daughter. I don’t know how it’s possible, but my heart swelled, becoming even more madly in love with her. I passed along big sister Ellie’s request for a picture of Shiloh’s face, and the tech obliged, deciding to try out the 3d wand. Shiloh managed to keep a lot of that face hidden, but the glance we were given? Oh my goodness. It was like I could suddenly picture her in my arms.

The tech left to meet with the doctor and see if the images were sufficient, and I looked at Jeff. “I know we haven’t seen numbers yet, but my heart is filled with hope.” There it was. Inexplicably. No hard data to back it up. But hope swelling and rising. “But I’m kind of afraid I’m going to get my feet knocked out from under me.” When you’ve been on the roller coaster we’ve been on, this seems to be the constant threat.

We headed in for the conference with the doctor, one of our favorites that we’ve met with before, and she went straight for the numbers.

“The thoracic cavity can be tricky to accurately measure, especially with your daughter’s anatomy, but I’d put it at about 25 weeks today.”

Do you remember the last measurement? 20.5 weeks.

So in the past month we’ve had somewhere around 4.5 weeks worth of growth.

We were hoping for a big number today. But that’s an even bigger number than I dared hope for.

On the way to Seattle in the morning, Jeff shared one of his plans for the day. On the way home, over the mountain pass, he wanted to stop to find a large rock for the yard. Shiloh’s rock. Regardless of outcome, he said, as a reminder of her and the Lord’s presence with us on this journey. I heartily agreed, and on the way home we did just that. And that stone of remembrance will sit in our yard, and we will tell our children about it, about how the Lord is present and active and oh so powerful here in this very day.

And so tonight we praise Jesus. We praise Him for growth. And like the beggars we know we are, we humbly plead for more. More growth. More grace poured out. Knowing it is a grace undeserved. Knowing that it is not a work of our piety or our faith, but simply the great power and mercy of Jesus.

Do it again, Lord, if it pleases you, do it again.

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