There have been no major developments of late. In the middle of
this quiet waiting period times seems to crawl at times but then we
look back and wonder how it all passed. But there have been
milestones and one of those milestones has been gigantic for our
boys. We have now been here in Cincinnati for three weeks and
Nicole has held up remarkably well. She has had very few bouts with
self-pity and only a couple of bouts that led to a minute of
bitterness (mere minutes mind you). The hardest sting came for her
on Mother's Day. I had left Friday morning early for Chattanooga
and returned late Saturday night, so she was all alone those two
days preceding. Then I did not arrive to her room till 10:30 the
morning of Mother's Day, but even though she would not want me
telling you, I received a couple of texts from her that hinted at
anger at her state that morning. No doubt brought about by
self-pity. By the time I got to the room, it was gone. The entire
attitude problem was something she could poke fun of, even
understanding how she let herself fall into it and what she used to
get out of it. But here is why I mention it. Why I am being candid
about her short battle: because who among us would not spend entire
days in the dark pits of self-pity if we were in her shoes? Who of
us would not have grown angrily impatient with our predicament?
Pelvic Rest since January. Bed Rest since February 25th. Back
pain, discomfort, deteriorating breathing physically. Surgery and
recovery in the midst of it. Then constant monitoring, echo and
ultrasound, one after the other, often times quite painful, up to
three in a week. Then there is the loss of control, the loss of
participation, the loss of the nurturer role with Eden, and all the
while, in spite of all she has given up every step of the way,
things grow more murky and more complicated. We go from TTTS to a
rare congenital and very compromising heart defect to the rupture of
the membrane between the boys to the risks posed by their sac free
floating and so on. To have your kids 5 hours away each day and be
sleeping alone in a hospital bed, hardly able to move any more. I
don't know about you, but I get a bit stir crazy after four
consecutive hours in a hospital room. I don't know what time I have
spent in self-pity, but it may be more than her and I have suffered
far less. She lives in fear, every time those monitors are on and
Bryce's heart dips too long she just about looses her breath, yet
she does not resort to anger (a by-product of fear nod Mr. Gray).
She has tried to look charitably upon those who have attacked her
heartlessly and selfishly in this time. And she has made some hard
choices and hard stands that had to be made but were difficult and
painful to make all in her weakened state. Okay, if I am painting
the portrait of a superhuman, that is the partly the point. The
point is that many of us might meet despair, not just self-pity.
Many of us might live for days in contempt for our circumstance.
Some will say that she is just doing what a momma does. And it is,
the really good ones. But for most of us, somewhere along the way
selfishness would have taken hard hold and started playing games
with our spiritual disposition. This little mother is durable. Not
just in body, but in mind and spirit. And yes I realize there are
many others who have and are suffering far worse, but how often do
we context and compare our suffering on the global scale when we are
in the midst of it and it carries on and on and demands we give up
all to the cause?
And what is even more remarkable is that this description of this
little fighting mother is nothing like the girl that lived only for
self for decades, scarred by others and scarred by her own
selfishness. Her life was more like a junk yard at times than a
garden worthy of gazing at. And though she somehow always had a
compassionate heart, that side of her was often lost as she ran from
pain by heaping more on. I can relate. My story is much the same.
But I am not sure how God orchestrated this transformation, from the
girl she has told me tales of to the woman I know today. I am also
sure that she could not even tell you how God did it. It was like a
good, slow bake, not so full of glorious pivotal moments, just
steady daily leading in her heart to Him. And as her heart came
closer to her maker, it was reformed, reborn, and remade by His
love. I am not here to tell her story of old. She is not as
verbose nor glass wall as I am. If she ever wants her story to be
known and told she will come to that point on her own if she needs
to and she will tell it, but I think only if it might serve
another's good. I don't think she would do it to bring her glory.
I honestly don't think she could be bothered by that motivation.
But I am telling a story of our journey together and her spirit
today that should and could give hope to someone who has none. I am
also wanting to encourage her and lift her up and tell of something
beautiful that she would not share with you. She is not
superhuman. NIcole is not even super mom. But she is a great human
and she is a great mom and I think she would find it safe to say,
that is to the glory of God and though she may not count her labors
and sacrifices today as giving Glory to something far greater than
herself, I think she might say she is doing it for love of our
boys. I don't know. It's a hunch. But how far a little light can
travel and how much it can illumine and how much glory can be given
from an unremarkable hospital room two states from home.
So the milestone, again. The meat of the matter. Today we reached
32 weeks, give or take depending upon the accuracy of our ruler.
Everyone was very clear early on, from Dr. Harnsberger to the Fetal
Care Team in our initial consult pre-surgical in February that 32
weeks is the level of prematurity where most complications from
prematurity disappear or very significantly diminish. The constant
fear was that the boys would have to be taken early because at any
moment Bryce might go into rapid decline and potentially complicate,
harm, or kill his brother who is indirectly connected. And to take
Bryce early might offer little chance to save him but would
certainly borrow trouble for River who was healthy and thriving.
But so is Bryce. In spite of his severe leak through the tricuspid,
his heart has not behaved as the experts expected. It has responded
with the same sort of determination and resilience that Nicole has
demonstrated. His heart has been like a ship that won't be sunk.
So now we can rest easier knowing we have crossed past many real and
potential complications that could have piled on because of
prematurity. The boys could come at any time and we can find some
assurance that River will be just perfect. As for his identical
brother, it could go either way, but I would have to say, he has
beat the odds so much and so long and held on so strong that even
those most guarded about their outlook, those who have seen it all
have started to see great hope and feel that hope for us. This
journey is not over yet and we have some very major hurdles to
overcome still with Bryce especially, but I hope that anyone who has
followed along somewhat so far is impressed by some of the things
that do not make real rational since like how could our boys be so
big and strong in the womb today having fought through and still
fighting some very major life-threatening obstacles? And how could
Nicole who once upon a time would not give up a Friday night out for
much of anything become someone who could give up everything for
someone she cannot even look in the eye? And how did I go from
alcoholic narcissist to become the sort of husband and father I
have become? And how could we have built such a beautiful family,
such a close knit team that even the folks here at Ronald McDonald
House talk about it with one another after seeing me here with our
kids? The things we were both best at building was brokenness, so
how did we get to the point we are today where we have built what we
have today in our lives and in our family? Two words: grace and
love. The unyielding love of God and the unmerited Grace of God.
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