Saturday, April 22, 2017

Growing a boy: Reset & Reboot

Tomorrow is the Sabbath. A day that should be set aside to reboot and reset before another week begins. A day to give thanks to God. A day of reflection. It sounds peaceful, serene. In today's culture some of the world stops...closes for the day. Shuts down. Rests. When it does it gives us an excuse, a reason, to take things a little slower.

For example, no mail can be sent or delivered. No face-to-face banking transactions can be made. It is as if it is a "free space" while playing BINGO...one more day to rest.

Longing.

My heart longs for this type of rest. This type of peace. Just one moment when I can reboot my soul...reset my settings. Take a breath without worry of missing out on the things that are most important to me: my relationship with God, husband, kids, family and friends.

Reflection comes in the short drive from my house to the hospital. It comes when I have a moment to go to the bathroom or when I finally take time to eat a meal or drink some water. My mind gets clouded by the list of things that needs to get done...should get done...or haven't gotten done.

My once focused heart has turned to survival in the midst of the challenging days I encounter. I'm thankful for music that stirs my heart back to the Creator...random Bible verse I see as a scroll through the pages of Facebook. The friends who visit me in the hospital...simply to visit with ME...not to see my preemie son or get the latest medical update...just to see (and recognize) me. It is refreshing.

Life in the throws of challenges is more deeply intertwined with every aspect of my life. I never imagined that I would be so effected physically and emotionally as I have been. As much as I want a reset, a reboot, I am thankful for my current sufferings.

James 1:2-5

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

It is with this perspective I have done so well. I have my moments of tears yet through those tears I see God's grace and tender mercies towards me as I look into the face of the 6 pound infant HE decided to save. I am eternally grateful to the Father of Life for allowing us these days with our third child. Although the verse above promises that I will be mature and complete...lacking nothing...I still have a ways to go. It is a life journey of living the Sabbath everyday. Taking moments every day to reset, reboot, refocus, reflect and fix my eyes on the Creator who gives life.

What a miracle it is to be seen by Him, used by Him, and preserved by His gracious hand.

Friday, April 21, 2017

Growing a boy: Being a NICU mom sucks

Okay, I am not going to lie.

Being a NICU mom sucks! After being in the hospital all day, I walked out to a beautiful spring day...I missed it.

In the confines of the hospital walls I interacted with other not-so-nice NICU moms, a son who decided to turn blue and almost stop breathing 3x today and a barrage of hospital personnel entering our room at what felt like 45 minute intervals.

I am exhausted.

In stark contrast, I came home to a sweet 15/mo son and little girl eagerly awaiting her momma's arrival and who insisted, "stay there momma...I'm coming to get you." This was followed by a huge hug, smile and lots of laughs. We enjoyed a wonderfully prepared meal by our friends and then a family dance party to Celtic and Hip-Hip Christian music (what a combo, I know).

Although most of the moments of my day are tough, taxing, overwhelming...there is always sunshine (mostly figuratively speaking given the spring rainy season we are in). All three of my kids bring me joy in different ways.

My oldest loves to read, cuddle, and take me by the hand to lead me to her next adventure. My second child loves to smile, clap his hands together and follow me around the house. When our youngest looks me in the eyes, I just melt.

Today was certainly better than yesterday, emotionally speaking, but it was still a long tough day. I feel like I sit around and wait in the hospital for my youngest son's feeding times (9, 12, 3, 6) ...this is followed by kicks, screams, attempts at breastfeeding, some frustration and poopy diapers..with little success of actually accomplishing the primary goal of a full nursing session. Yes, it is a process. Yes, if I look objectively there are small advances in the area of nursing....but THEN physical therapy shows up, pointing out yet more things that we need to work on.

Again, it is overwhelming the amount of tiny little things that I need to remember and "work" on. How can I possibly 1) remember them all and 2) implement then all at the same time!??!

I know the job of each of these hospital persons is to help us and our sweet youngest, but where is the encouragement? Am I doing anything right? It gets frustrating having professionals looking down over you or directly taking your baby from your arms or the constant "no, try it this way...no, do this instead....no, that won't work that way."

Being a NICU mom sucks. There is no way around it.

My day is schedule around pumping, attempts at breastfeeding and keeping track of medical appointments/paperwork that still needs to be turned in or completed. How can I possibly find time for anything else?! It is all consuming. Even though my baby is not home yet, I still have to wake 1-3x per night to pump. I still have to "take it easy" to heal from my c-section just 19 days ago. I still have to grow my relationship with my husband and two other kids.

All I really want to do is get my hair colored. I want to soak in a clean bathtub. I want to be healed from my c-section pain so that I can pick up my kids, walk them to the park or play hard with them in the backyard.

I want my old "normal" life back in which I had the energy to keep up our household, plan gatherings for our friends or simply have a few moments of not feeling torn between two places...having my family separated.

We hope to have our sweetie boy will be home in a few weeks from now if things keep going the way they are. Then I will no longer be a NICU mom, but then I will be a mother with three kids trying to survive while trying not to favor the preemie because he just "seems more delicate and needs more attention."

It will be a hard transition to say the least but at least there is hope that I will not be a NICU mom forever.  We are excited about the homecoming of our youngest when the time is right.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Growing a boy: My Raw Emotions

The emotions have finally hit.

Up to this point, I feel like I have dealt with the struggle of our preemie growing boy pretty well...taking each new surprise and challenge in stride. But now it is where it gets tough.

Yes, it is wonderful to have our youngest closer to home yet at the same time it pulls at my heart even harder to have to leave him. Maybe because he is more alert, maybe because I know that he is only 12 minutes from my house and I can just pick up and drive down there with minimal planning. I feel like the relationship with my other two kids has been compromised...focusing more on when/how I can make it down the road rather than enjoying time with my other two.

The big challenge...the road block that needs to be removed before coming home... breastfeeding. Honestly, I did better emotionally when they told me that the surgeons were going to cut open my son's chest to remove a mass/portion of his lung then I am with teaching my preemie how to breastfeed.

My milk production is not the issue. Me knowing how to nurse is not the issue. It is my son's lack of skill that needs to be learned. I know this in my head but my heart aches that he is just not getting it. (Knowing also he is just 36-weeks gestation and this skill will take time to learn).

My mind wonders, "It has to be me." "Maybe he just doesn't like me." "Maybe I am too loud." "Maybe I really don't know what I am doing."

I get emotional. I cry. I secretly get frustrated at myself (thankfully not at my son).

"I must be doing something wrong."

Although the last few days have been great having him closer to home, it has also separated me and my husband...taking shifts to be with him after our other two go to bed. In many ways this is good...the one who is home gets alone time and the other gets to snuggle and stimulate our son (who would otherwise just be laying in a silent hospital room by himself).

This part of the journey for me is the toughest. I was not expecting that. I feel more exhausted (or maybe is it the last 18+ days catching up to me). I feel more worn. I feel less able to deal with the household things that need to be done. I am overwhelmed.

I know it is just a season. I know that whether my son has to be fed my breastmilk via a bottle or by my breast (or even by formula), he will survive. He is a fighter. The ultimate goal is to breastfeed him but the "ultimate ultimate" goal is to get him home...whether that means bottle or breastfeeding.

So...there you have it...my ugly raw emotions in type.

Please pray for us, our marriage and our kids during this challenging time. Yes- it is just a season. Yes- this too shall pass. Yet standing in the middle of it, it feels like sinking sand.

Much love.



Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Growing a boy: It is just beginning

Well, sweet Ollie boy has made it to 16-days of life. In that short (but looooong 16 days) we have said goodbye to him at least 2 or three times, witness answered prayers, and have experienced the love of a community we never realized we had. We have been humbled, asking and accepting help for everyday, normal tasks that just seemed too overwhelming to deal with like buying milk or bananas at the grocery store.  It has been a roller coaster of emotions as we sorted through the many challenges this little boy has brought us. It certainly has brought my husband and I closer and has taught us about the fragility of life.

Now that our youngest is in a NICU closer to home, it feels like we are missing out on his life even more. He is more alert now (making is so difficult to leave him at the hospital when he is starring straight at me or crying!). It heightens the stress of trying to teach him how to nurse (one of the skills he has to learn before coming home). It makes the reality of his homecoming so present.

Then I think..what then?!?!

Up to this point we have been so blessed with support such as dinners, lawn mows, etc. but what will happen when he comes home? I am terrified that he will stop breathing (something I witnessed today...his little preemie face turning blue and his heart rate dipping to 65 bpm). I am terrified of not being able to keep up with our laundry and cooking meals for 4 people on top of nursing. I am terrified for the adjustment our two oldest will have to make...having mommy's attention divided. I am terrified to see all the medical bills start to come in not only for Ollie but for my 1-week hospital stay & operation.

This is just the beginning.

Yes, we have been through a lot starting 1-week before his delivery but really, it is just the beginning. Being born 7-weeks early and having a portion of a lung removed on top of chest tubes, x-rays, pricks and pokes, it is no doubt that he will be a fighter. However, we have to watch for developmental delays (especially since he did not receive oxygen for almost 7 minutes after birth). There is no clear understanding about what the large tumor-like mass, removed from his tiny body, is and the long-term care plan to ensure it does not come back or does not cause any problems as he grows.

So what is my point in writing all of this? First I am exhausted. It has been an emotional day, transferring our son to a NICU closer to home (and riding in the ambulance). And secondly, to be honest, I really don't know. Maybe just to express my fears for the future and our ongoing need for love and encouragement in real and practical ways. We are a divided family of 5 with three children who need very different things. We are strong in our faith yet exhausted from balancing all that life has given us. We cannot effectively meet everyone's needs all the time...our sweet oldest does not quiet understand this.

So, will all that being said: We are beyond grateful and beyond appreciate for all of the love, prayers, and encouragements we have received. I know that this is just the beginning.




Growing a boy: Story of Job (By Tyler)

Job’s Story (By Tyler)

If I’m being honest, I never really liked the biblical story of Job.  I didn’t like that God allowed him to loose his family, friends, and belongings. Even though everything and more was restored to Job, I still didn’t like it. 
Over the last 6 months my family has been through quite a bit.  My mother passed after 3 years of barely holding on to a miserable existence in a nursing home.  Our finished basement flooded.  My wife’s pregnancy had some serious complications with our third child which was born with a severe life threatening lung defect.
It has been a difficult season to say the least.  In the midst of all of this, I continued to get more frustrated at God.  At moments I was angry and screaming at Him.  His response was to quietly tell me that even more suffering was on the way.  I work in an emergency room and see people during some of the worst times in their lives.  People on their death bed, afraid, regretful, realizing they have wasted their life chasing after things that don’t really matter.  As God has opened my eyes to the true suffering in this world, I finally just got pissed off and started asking Him why He allows it.  If our God is so powerful, why doesn’t he stop it?  Why is the creator sitting back and doing nothing?  
His response shocked me.  He used a song, Where Were You by Ghost Ship (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLf_Nlukra0).  That got my attention as I knew He was using this powerful song to speak to me about His plan, but I still didn’t have my answer.  Why God? Why do you allow people all around me to die, suffer and be broken?  Then I turned to the book of Job.  I always thought it would give a reason to why there is suffering.  I knew all the scriptures about trials and their benefits from Proverbs, James and Romans.  I had shared them with others so many times, but I still never liked Job.  I rarely talked about the book.
After studying Job I realized, God didn’t answer the questions.  He never said suffering is present because…, He just made more statements.  As I was essentially calling God unjust, He answered with showing me that I was not qualified to make that claim.  I was not in control of the complexities of this world or it’s creation.  I did not know enough to call Him unjust.  As I demanded an explanation from God for the reason of suffering, He invited me to trust in Him.  To actually believe that what I believe is really real. 
And that is the end.  I never got my answer, but I gained hope, joy, peace, and trust in the only trustworthy person.  Our God is an awesome God.  My mom got to see her first 2 grandbabies before she died.  Our flooded basement is now put back together and I gained amazing fellowship with friends, and a few new tools.  Our son is thriving after having his chest cut open and parts of his lung cut out on day 5 of life.  My life is being put back together, I have suffered trials and the testing of my faith has produced a perseverance. 
I am starting to have a new appreciation of the book of Job.  Even more, I have a new appreciation for the one inspired it.  My reply to His revelation is that I spoke of things I did not understand, things to wonderful for me.  Although I had no right to ask, my God knelt and answered me.   



Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Growing a boy: Separation

Monday, April 3, 2017: Day One of Separation

Today was the first full day of being physically separated from my family. Oliver and Tyler are in Seattle at Children's hospital. My other two kids are with my parents. I am in the hospital in Tacoma, recovering from my invasive abdominal surgery.

I wish I had more words to describe my emotions right now. A part of me is relieved to have a few moments of silence today, no one needing or wanting me. No one asking questions or expecting answers. It was nice that Siobhan spent the night last night and was with me in the morning. It was wonderful to have my sister stop for a visit (with coffee!!) and to have her help on my first "epic" loop walk down the halls of the hospital.

I guess I just feel detached from every thing. My two oldest kids are getting great attention and love from their grandparents...something I cannot give them right now (physically or emotionally). My youngest son has about 8 doctors and 10-15 other providers caring for him around the clock. My husband has taken over the medical decision-making for our son (at least for now) as I recover in the hospital. I feel like my story stopped the moment my preemie son was whisked away via ambulance to Seattle. My body was just simply used as a vessel to create this little boy and bring him into the world...and that is it. I know in my head this is not true but my heart is confused, hurting, and overwhelmed.

The good news is that the feeling of loneliness is certainly not there. I have been so incredibly blessed by cards, letters, scriptures, texts, and messages. A friend brought me a journal today filled with all of the things mentioned above. It was put together at our women's retreat that occurred over the weekend. As I flipped through it, I cried, feeling His presence and peace. I could feel the love of the community in which we are apart of. Also, someone I don't even know sent me a handwritten letter to the hospital. Beyond touched! I was so encouraged. This has probably the one tangible thing that has kept me grounds so please feel free to send us these tangible encouragements!! I need them.

Tomorrow I will be discharged and will be able to see Oliver in person for the second time. I am worried about the long drive up there, how my body will physically do with all the points of transfer, and my emotions. If I cry (or cough or laugh) my incision hurts. I am praying it will be a great day and that much progress will be made.

I cannot believe my son is now one and a half days old! Although I have only touched him for 5 minutes or so, my heart is wrapped around him in so many ways. All of the doctors, mine and his, say that we made the right decision on taking him out when we did. This is reassuring to me and confirms that we made the right decision as his parents. It was a tough call to make.

I struggle with not knowing the outcome of all of this. The journey ahead is long. We are just taking our first steps in it. In his first day of life, Oliver went from 100% oxygen on the ventilation to somewhere around the low 50% (like 53 or something)! Amazing progress; however, this was followed by increased CO2 levels putting him back into a critical state. This was corrected about about an hour+ of messing with the machine settings. He is still not stable. He is unable to get a CT scan which would reveal to us more about his condition. Honestly, we still have no real idea about what is wrong with him. We know one lung is compromised. We know there are some issues with his working lung. Is a lung transplant needed in his future? Gosh! So much to take in...so many "what if" scenarios right now.

My heart hurts thinking about this.

Oliver is in the best place he can be right now: 1) in the hands of Jesus 2) surrounded by our family of believers who are constantly praying for him and 3) with a whole team of doctors who are fighting along side of him for his survival.

We still have no idea if Oliver will make it through all of this. But I pray with every ounce of everything that I have and every tear I can produce and every thought that I capture that he will. He IS a fighter! We believe he will continue to be strong and courageous. We believe that he will make progress moment by moment. We believe he hears the tender whispers of Jesus speaking to him. We believe the Holy Spirit is resting upon him and his medical team. We believe in the power of healing in the name of God the Father, God the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Will you believe with us and continue to lift him up in prayer?

Monday, April 3, 2017

Growing a boy: Happy Birthday Son

Sunday, April 2, 2017: Bed Rest Day 6
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON!! 
(33 weeks/2 days gestation)


The night was horrible. I was never able to really get to bed. My right leg hurt so bad that I couldn't even move it on my own. It felt like a 100 pound brick. My belly was so big that it prevented me from being able to get a full cough or full breath. The pressure from the increased fluid made it impossible to urinate. Contractions were peaking to the point of feeling like I was in full labor resulting in a 1 cm dilation (totaling 4 cm and 75% effaced). As my body processed all of these rather quick changes I began to shake uncontrollably. Finally, around 4:30am the torture was put to ease. The first pain med did not even touch the pain. They gave me a 1/2 dose of another, much stronger, pain med. This mildly eased the pain until they completed with a full dose.  My body was finally able to rest.

We had the nurse call our doctor at two points during the night to consult and the on-call doc gladly came in to access the situation. I had made some progression but not enough that warranted a c-section at 5 in the morning. At this point, I was healthy and the baby was healthy. I slept for about 2 hours.

By 7am I was woken up by our nurse saying that our 12:30pm ultrasound got bumped up to 7am but only if we could leave immediately. Of course, we did. Our 1-hour appointment would be telling of our next course of action. It was a blessing and miracle that we could get this done first thing in the morning so that we could revise our game plan if needed.

The ultrasound tech measured my fluid levels...I was back up to 53 AFI (Thursday I was 40 and the day before 57...what the heck is going on?). Anyway, one of the major things the ultrasound would reveal is baby's respiratory function. For a 30-min window they needed to see him "breath" on his own. They were unable to see this. This is common or could have simply been missed.We were given a few new images of our sweet baby boy and then taken back up to our room.

I was super hungry at this point, roughly 8am. The last time I ate was "dinner" at 6pm which consisted of a few bites of fruit and a coffee from the hospital lobby. While they were trying to reach my doctor to determine if I could eat, the baby was put back on the monitor to measure his heart. With the excess fluid, it is difficult to keep him on the monitor because he has a big swimming pool to float around in. When he slowed down for a little while the nurses noticed that his heart was not accelerating the way it should. It was staying at his baseline but that was all.

I was getting a little anxious to hear the official ultrasound results, to further understand this "issue" with his heart and his breathing; and I was lightheaded because I needed food. Despite all of this, we waited patiently in our room until around 10:30am when the NICU doctor, Dr. Flood, and our OB/GYN Dr. Stearman appeared in our room to discuss all that was discovered and all that had changed (again) in the last 24-hours.

Per the the recommendation of both the NICU doc and my OB/GNY, around 11am, Tyler and I decided it was best for our family to have a baby today. It was a relatively ease decision as we reflected back on this whole week's set of events, risks vs. benefits as well was what was best for me and baby (especially in light of the night I had and the test results from baby). I was not anticipating a c-section until Friday yet it appeared that baby was doing just "ok" and not showing any signs of improving in the womb. Trying to push us both to make the 34-week mark would be of no benefit. It actually may have made things worse.

Shortly after this decision, the room cleared and it was just Tyler, me and my OB/GYN. She patiently and lovingly answered all of our questions. She even had tears in her eyes as she watched us process through the emotions of what was going to happen in the next hour or so. Going into this surgery to retrieve our son, we knew there was still a 50/50 chance of survival. I remember saying though tears and labored breathing, "But I just love our son so much already and I haven't even met him. I don't want to lose him," Tyler asked if our doctor would be okay if he prayed over me. She got a little smile on her face and joined us! As I laid on the bed, Tyler held my hand and our doctor laid hands on my belly and prayed over us. She prayed that this baby would be a fighter; she prayed for steady hands and wisdom; she prayed that I would do okay with the surgery. It was amazing. We said our amens' looking at each other with tears in our eyes, not knowing the fate of this baby boy.

Moments later things started happening rapidly. I was cleaned and changed for surgery. Still having pain, I was given a slight dose of pain meds (thank goodness! This helped with the pain and calmed my nerves). Tyler put on scrubs and within 20 minutes we were back in the OR. I was asked to sit on the OR table and hunch over my belly...yea, easier said than done!... so the epidural could be placed. I closed my eyes, focused on my breathing and squeezed Tyler's hands all while praying over our son and the traumatic events that my son and I would go through.

The OR was joined be another through clear glass doors. I remember sitting on the OR table and seeing the clock, 11:47am, as the NICU team started to appear and set up the OR next to mine for my unborn son. I was quickly lowered onto the table since the epidural was starting to kick in. Things from there were kinda a blur. I was a little loopy from the pain meds given prior to the surgery and the other IV meds began to really effect me as well. It was kinda a drunk/out-of-it feeling. As the surgeons began to cut I could feel no pain and I could feel the weight of the fluid coming off. It was an amazing sensation! It literally sounded like a shop vac in there as they suctioned all the fluids. I felt minimal tugging and pulling because my uterus was so stretched out. He came out very quickly and easily at 12:19pm. I vaguely remember seeing someone walking from my OR to my sons'...just steps away, but I didn't get to see him or hear any cries (which was expected). From that moment forward, Tyler was doing the best he could to be there for me as well as our son. I told him to just enjoy being with our son, especially since we had no idea what his condition was really like. Tyler took a few pictures of our son and walked back over to show me as they prepared to close my incision. That was the first time I got to "see" our son. I looked back up at the clock, 12:23pm. By 12:40 the NICU team and Tyler left their OR and I remained as they wrapped things up. As the rolled me down the hallway to the recovery, I ended up throwing up a bit. An unpleasant side effect of the epidural medication. Tyler and I FaceTimed while I was in recovery so I could get a better look at baby. During this conversation I learned that our son, not more than an hour old, would need to be transferred up to Seattle Children's Hospital.

I was so sad that I would not even get to see him or touch him for days since I just had a major surgery myself and was in recovery "lock down" for 2-hours post-op. I knew he needed to catch a ride to Seattle as soon as possible so I settled in mind that it would be at least two or three days before I would see him. Well, my wonderful dream-team of nurses "snuck" me up to the NICU at TG so that I could lock eye on him and touch his precious little feet. It literally felt like Christmas, only 1000x more exciting. I seriously was jumping out of my gurney with excitement to see him. I was wheeled into the room backwards and immediately began to cry tears of joy. All the physical pain I was feeling suddenly went away as I gently stroked his feet and called him by his name. I was the very first person to call him by name, OLIVER SINCLAIR!

When I began talking to him and saying his name, although intubated, his little tongue started to move backwards and forwards. He would do this only for me. HE KNEW HIS MOMMA! My heart melted. It was as if he was telling me that he was ready to fight. That he was strong. And that the battle was won in Jesus. I was overwhelmed by this moment! It was incredibly sad to be rolled out of the room with only getting such a short amount of time with him. My heart was breaking...what if he was in Seattle and took a turn for the worst and I wasn't there? I tried not to think on that too much...but instead tried to rest God's promises and scripture.

My friend Siobhan stayed with me every moment from being rolled out of the OR until the next day. It was a huge comfort to have someone who would pray over me, help me adjust my pillows, listen to my struggles or simply just sit in silence as I processed the whirlwind of a day. The day ended not nearly as dramatically as it started; however, it was strange that on my son's birthday I was without a son and without a husband. It was hard to realize that my body felt like I just gave birth but my baby was no where to be seen. I struggled with wanting to know what was happening at each moment with him to being so exhausted I fought to keep my eyes open.

We still have a LONG road ahead, counting each day we have with him a blessing and covering him with so much prayer that it is almost unfathomable. We do not know what will happen in front of us but we do know that God has given sweet Oliver Sinclair to us for today...in this moment. So we will soak it in. Enjoy this sweet personality and lean on Jesus even more!

Happy Birthday, our son, Oliver Sinclair.



Growing a boy: Day 2, Wait on the Lord (Tyler)

Wait

Today I find myself waiting quite a bit.  Most people who know me and my wife know there is a fair amount of activity in our life.  There is not too much waiting, more doing.  From the moment when the kids wake up at 6am, to the time my head lays on the pillow after 14 hrs of working around 2am, I am constantly moving.  It has been this way for the last few months.  Now I have been thrown into this pattern of waiting.  This is only day 1 at Children's Hospital and I find myself looking for things to do.  I met the staff for morning rounds then went to go get breakfast.  It took 7 minutes to walk to the cafeteria, 3 minutes to eat, and 7 minutes to walk back.  That only took 17 minutes out of the day.  I was back in Oliver's room ready to do something, but really I wasn't needed.  I stroked his hair and sat down to type this (because I have to be doing something here.)

Go is teaching me to wait on him.  He reminded me of Ps. 27:14
Wait on the Lord,
Be strong, and let your heart take courage;
and wait for the Lord!

God has placed me in a location where there is nothing to but Pray and love on Oliver, and answer questions for the Providers.  Here, I am no longer Brandi's caretaker during healing, I don't know anyone here, there are no distractions, I don't have a badge to steal food from the doctor's lounge. I have work off for the next 3-4 months and the kids are safe at Gram-Gram's and Papa's house.  God is teaching me to wait on Him.

I am reminded of the biblical definition of "Wait."
Hebrew: Qavah
In hebrew, "wait" doesn't just mean to delay an action or to be eager for something to happen.  It also can has this component of twisting, binding together.  I get this picture of an uncomfortable action that causes growth or improvement.  The word is used elsewhere to describe 2 cords being spun together to increase it's strength.  God is increasing my strength and faith as Oliver progresses.

Through this I am starting to understand James 1:2-4
Consider it all pure joy, my brothers, when you meet trial of various kinds, for you know the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.  And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.


-Tyler

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Growing a boy: Thankfulness from a dad's perspective

Thankfulness
By Tyler Harrington

What does God mean in scripture to be thankful?  Why should I be thankful when my son is fighting for his life and hasn’t even been born?  Why should I be thankful that my wife’s abdomen is so stretched she can’t even walk, sleep, or even roll over? She is in intense pain, battling the anxious thought that our son could die inside of her or shortly after giving birth.  We are so helpless, why be thankful?

These were questions that were running through my head a few days ago.  I sat in the hospital bed, lackadaisical, just wasting time watching Netflix.  Then I heard the news, Ollie had fluid in his belly where it shouldn’t be.  From what I remember from medical school that mean he only had about a 25% chance of survival.  For the first time, I hit my knees in prayer.  It saddened me at that moment, that it took the very real thought of loosing him for me to actually turn to God.  Every time the Doctor said “This is looking pretty bleak,”  God kept saying “It is my face you should seek.”  The survival odds got better with each negative test, and I was reassured by my wife saying “God has knit this child together in my womb just the way he wanted him to be.”  God comforted me with the revelation that He doesn’t operate under the limitations of odds ratios and bleak outlooks.  I was starting to see something to be thankful for.

Having left for the hospital in a hurry, I did not bring my bible.  Now in the midst of a war I was craving God’s word more then ever.  When I asked our friend, she lent me her Bible without hesitation.  As I turned through the pages, I was able to see the many ways God had worked in her life and lessons she had been taught.  It was her personal bible that she had spent years highlighting and reading. It was so encouraging to see that God knows us each individually and meets each of us where we are at.  He is big enough to do that.  I flipped through the pages and started reading one of my daughter’s favorite passages, Dan 6, Daniel and the Lion’s Den.  The Lord showed me something in 6:10.  After the King had made the edict if anyone worships someone other then the king, that person shall be thrown into the lion’s den.  Daniels response:

When Daniel knew that the document had been signed, he went to his house where he had windows in his upper room open toward Jerusalem.  He got down on his knees three times a day and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as he had done previously. Dan 6:10

Did you catch that, a law came down that would surely sentence him to being kitty food and he gave God thanks.  His faith in God was not changed by the trial, he did what he always did.  Daniel went to speak with his Father, he gave thanks in the midst of the trial.  I am reminded of Romans 8:28:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.


If you look at the end of Daniel 6, the king, having seen God’s power in action and Daniel’s faith, makes a new declaration:

26 “I make a decree, that in all my royal dominion people are to tremble before the God of Daniel, for he is the living God, enduring forever;
his kingdom shall never be destroyed, and his dominion shall be to the end.
27 He delivers and rescues;
he works signs and wonders in heaven and on earth,
he who has saved Daniel from the power of the lions.”

So I echo that statement to myself and all who are reading this.  As we trust God, as we press forth into the unknown, as we continually lift up Ollie and Brandi to only one who can save them.  He delivers and rescues; he works signs and wonders in heaven and on earth, Amen!

Thank you for joining us in this battle.  I look forward to the testimony that God is building in us and through us, no matter the outcome.  And most of all…  I look forward to introducing you to our son.