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?