Today I am weary.
My bones ache, and my feet drag as though they are going through 6 inches of mud.
Part lack of sleep (18 mo. kidlet teething with an ear infection). Part due to being emotionally drained.
Thankfully God's love is relentless, and has gotten us through.
Thankfully God's love is relentless, and has gotten us through.
Today I faced the most dreaded appointment - Genetics.
Before Gavin was born they knew he had multiple medical complications, and right after he was born they attempted to get a blood sample from his umbilical cord. The test didn't work properly, and since Gavin had a blood transfusion we weren't able to try again until after we left the NICU.
Here we sit - well over a year has passed and I am finally doing it.
Sitting outside the hospital doors, I contemplated leaving.
Heading home.
Content to live in mystery.
I watched the nurses and doctors come and go. Some on their breaks, others having put in countless hours - in much need of a place to rest.
Patients, moms, dads, siblings - all wandering by. Some were talking. Others looked like they were all too familiar with this place.
I sat their, remembering weary days past. Days that threatened to consume me - to defeat me - to bring into question all that I once knew.
Ever have those moments were everything you see brings emotions? The wind on your face seems to be too much, and a tear falls. This was one of those moments.
A mother, pushing her son (not much older than 10) passed by us. In that moment, time began to freeze. The boy slowly looked up - our eyes met. He clearly was battling for his life - cancer.
The look he gave. I don't think I will ever be able to wipe his look from my mind - not a look of pain, or pity. It was a look of self-consciousness - he probably didn't see himself as the strong boy he once was. Perhaps he would rather have been walking with his friends, instead of being pushed by his mom. He may have seen himself as weak.
I saw a hero.
Then and there I forgot why we were there. I stopped and prayed.
To a passer-by, I probably looked like I was daydreaming. I didn't bow my head - my eyes weren't closed - my mouth didn't utter a word. I just silently prayed in my heart for healing for this sweet boy - I prayed for his brave mom, who stands by his side though the waves keep crashing in on them.
When I finished I looked over at Gavin and he said "Amen" - AMEN - Aaaaaaaammenn. Something he recently learned, but he had no reason to believe I had just prayed. Tears filled my eyes as I said "that's right buddy - AMEN!"
You see - the spirit moves sometimes. Ok - not just sometimes...He is ALWAYS moving, I am just trying to move on my own, and am too busy to notice. This may be little in the grand scheme, but it was enough to make me stop and notice Him moving.
That was my sign - we were going to be okay. I made my way for the big revolving door, up the elevator and into a room where we waited for our Geneticist to arrive. We were asked questions about my side - Jason's side. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts and uncles. They covered it all. Much to my delight - she wasn't scary at all! For some reason I had her pictured as a "doom and gloom" kind of person. She was very interested in Gavin's unique little "deformities". Some of the things she got super excited over since she hadn't seen one for a while - if ever...grrreeat! :) I still don't know what to think of that. For now we will take it as a compliment.
In my attempts to not bore you - I will just say that she didn't find anything that was an immediate concern. We did a blood sample that we will get results on in 6 weeks. Until then, we just praise God for our little miracle.
Many of you don't know this, but I hemorrhaged at 6 weeks. We thought we were going to lose him. There is now a "theory" that could actually explain how/why the main deformities happened. Basically when the hemorrhage happened, it cut off some blood supply to Gavin - possible reason for it all? Maybe.
I choose to think that God knew exactly what He was doing with Gavin. He blessed us with being his parents and I don't think that any of this was just "random". There are probably many medical explanations for it, but I don't need them. I know he is mine, he was created by God almighty, and I will love him all of the days I am here on earth.
How could you not?
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Before Gavin was born they knew he had multiple medical complications, and right after he was born they attempted to get a blood sample from his umbilical cord. The test didn't work properly, and since Gavin had a blood transfusion we weren't able to try again until after we left the NICU.
Here we sit - well over a year has passed and I am finally doing it.
Sitting outside the hospital doors, I contemplated leaving.
Heading home.
Content to live in mystery.
I watched the nurses and doctors come and go. Some on their breaks, others having put in countless hours - in much need of a place to rest.
Patients, moms, dads, siblings - all wandering by. Some were talking. Others looked like they were all too familiar with this place.
I sat their, remembering weary days past. Days that threatened to consume me - to defeat me - to bring into question all that I once knew.
Ever have those moments were everything you see brings emotions? The wind on your face seems to be too much, and a tear falls. This was one of those moments.
A mother, pushing her son (not much older than 10) passed by us. In that moment, time began to freeze. The boy slowly looked up - our eyes met. He clearly was battling for his life - cancer.
The look he gave. I don't think I will ever be able to wipe his look from my mind - not a look of pain, or pity. It was a look of self-consciousness - he probably didn't see himself as the strong boy he once was. Perhaps he would rather have been walking with his friends, instead of being pushed by his mom. He may have seen himself as weak.
I saw a hero.
Then and there I forgot why we were there. I stopped and prayed.
To a passer-by, I probably looked like I was daydreaming. I didn't bow my head - my eyes weren't closed - my mouth didn't utter a word. I just silently prayed in my heart for healing for this sweet boy - I prayed for his brave mom, who stands by his side though the waves keep crashing in on them.
When I finished I looked over at Gavin and he said "Amen" - AMEN - Aaaaaaaammenn. Something he recently learned, but he had no reason to believe I had just prayed. Tears filled my eyes as I said "that's right buddy - AMEN!"
You see - the spirit moves sometimes. Ok - not just sometimes...He is ALWAYS moving, I am just trying to move on my own, and am too busy to notice. This may be little in the grand scheme, but it was enough to make me stop and notice Him moving.
That was my sign - we were going to be okay. I made my way for the big revolving door, up the elevator and into a room where we waited for our Geneticist to arrive. We were asked questions about my side - Jason's side. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, great-aunts and uncles. They covered it all. Much to my delight - she wasn't scary at all! For some reason I had her pictured as a "doom and gloom" kind of person. She was very interested in Gavin's unique little "deformities". Some of the things she got super excited over since she hadn't seen one for a while - if ever...grrreeat! :) I still don't know what to think of that. For now we will take it as a compliment.
In my attempts to not bore you - I will just say that she didn't find anything that was an immediate concern. We did a blood sample that we will get results on in 6 weeks. Until then, we just praise God for our little miracle.
Many of you don't know this, but I hemorrhaged at 6 weeks. We thought we were going to lose him. There is now a "theory" that could actually explain how/why the main deformities happened. Basically when the hemorrhage happened, it cut off some blood supply to Gavin - possible reason for it all? Maybe.
I choose to think that God knew exactly what He was doing with Gavin. He blessed us with being his parents and I don't think that any of this was just "random". There are probably many medical explanations for it, but I don't need them. I know he is mine, he was created by God almighty, and I will love him all of the days I am here on earth.
How could you not?
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