First things first. About Joel:
- We had our routine ultrasound. He's still in the same condition—not better or worse.
- His heartbeat is still solid, so they consider him stable.
- You can see a massive pocket of fluid build-up on the left side of his chest cavity that's pushing his tiny lungs and little heart all the way over to the right. He's having to work harder as a result.
- Fluid has leaked down into his arms.
- His ears are nearly unrecognizable because of so much fluid build-up.
- A normal woman's amniotic fluid levels range from 4-25. Mine is still normal, but I'm sitting at 24, so I'm on the high end. (No wonder I look and feel as big as a house.)
- The doctors are most concerned about the fluid surrounding Joel's face and neck. If that swelling doesn't go down, it will be very, very difficult to get a breathing tube in him once he's delivered.
- The plan still stands. Joel will be delivered between 28-32 weeks at the optimal time when doctors determine it's best for his chances of survival.
She's kind and considerate and gentle and very maternal herself, about the age of our own mothers. Her job was to fill us in on what would happen once Joel is born—from where the NICU is located to exactly what they'll be doing to help stabilize him right after delivery to where the Chic-Fil-A is in the hospital in case we need dinner.
Not kidding. She gave us details down to the minute degree.
We weren't expecting that kind of onslaught of information. And even more than that, during the course of our discussion, we were asked to decide things (or at least consider things) no new mom or dad should ever have to make about their newborn. EVER.
I think I've held it together pretty well up until that appointment—despite the despairing head shakes and somber faces and dark, dreary atmosphere. But it got way too real for me in that consult. That's why I couldn't bring myself to update you until now.
We left the hospital and the weight of it all hit me. It was literally more than I could physically carry. If I'd been shooting a scene for a movie, there would've been only one take. No cuts. And I probably would've won some sort of Academy award for my performance. It felt—and probably looked—that dramatic.
When we walked into the parking garage, I collapsed onto a bench in front of passersby and wept my eyes out—shoulders heaving, uncontrollable wailing, ugly face kind of crying. Nathan had to help me get it together. We sat there for what seemed like forever before he helped me hobble to the car.
We weren't expecting that kind of onslaught of information. And even more than that, during the course of our discussion, we were asked to decide things (or at least consider things) no new mom or dad should ever have to make about their newborn. EVER.
I think I've held it together pretty well up until that appointment—despite the despairing head shakes and somber faces and dark, dreary atmosphere. But it got way too real for me in that consult. That's why I couldn't bring myself to update you until now.
We left the hospital and the weight of it all hit me. It was literally more than I could physically carry. If I'd been shooting a scene for a movie, there would've been only one take. No cuts. And I probably would've won some sort of Academy award for my performance. It felt—and probably looked—that dramatic.
When we walked into the parking garage, I collapsed onto a bench in front of passersby and wept my eyes out—shoulders heaving, uncontrollable wailing, ugly face kind of crying. Nathan had to help me get it together. We sat there for what seemed like forever before he helped me hobble to the car.
It was such a HARD day—for both of us.
But now that we've had a few nights to sleep on it, I can't say we're completely back to normal, but at least we've both had time to rest, process things, prepare our hearts and minds for outcomes, and soak in every ounce of encouragement we can from the Spirit.
But now that we've had a few nights to sleep on it, I can't say we're completely back to normal, but at least we've both had time to rest, process things, prepare our hearts and minds for outcomes, and soak in every ounce of encouragement we can from the Spirit.
What We're Learning
Lesson #1
I love the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Daniel 3. I read it again yesterday. I hate that stories like this have often been toned down into simple stories for kids because it's so powerful for any believer. If you've forgotten what happened, go read it here.
When these guys refused to bow down to the gold statue and were sentenced to death in the fiery furnace, they told the king:
We don't need to defend ourselves before you. If we're thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He'll rescue us from your power. But even if he doesn't, we want to make it clear to you...that we'll never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up.
We know God did rescue them. But what I love is their perspective on the Lord when everything pointed south, when there didn't seem to be a way out. They basically said, "Our God can. Our God will. And even if He doesn't, we want to make it clear to you that He's still God."
That's the kind of perspective we want to have.
Lesson #2
Nathan has been asking God for months to refine him and our family, to make us look more like Jesus. As we were talking the other night, he said, "I think we need to consider this a privilege that God has called us into a deeper walk with Him through this difficult time. We're called to abide in him and expect refinement in the process."
I could've punched him right then and there. What?! A privilege?!
But then, I realized he's absolutely right. God wants us to abide in Him at all times and in all situations—in both good and bad. Check this out:
But then, I realized he's absolutely right. God wants us to abide in Him at all times and in all situations—in both good and bad. Check this out:
I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn't produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. ... Remain in me, and I will remain in you. ... But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted! When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father. (John 15:1-8)
The whole passage is deep and I've left out a lot of good stuff (read it here), but my point is this: during the good times, we don't peace out on Jesus and tell him we'll come back and reconnect our branch with his vine when times get hard. It doesn't work that way.
NO! Branches (us) should always stayed connected to the Vine (Jesus) if we want to live abundantly and produce fruit. And throughout it all, we should expect to be pruned and refined as we abide in him.
Husband is right. Maybe God is pruning us through this process so we can produce more fruit. Pruning is painful. In fact, it hurts like heck. It's never easy. But it's good and needed. And hopefully, we'll look more like him in the end.
Prayer
I can't thank you enough for praying us through so far. We feel the tangible prayers of the saints all over the place—even from saints we've never even met.Please continue to pray that God would:
- Completely heal Joel, and specifically reduce the swelling in his neck and head so doctors can get a breathing tube in.
- Permeate our lives and every doctor's visit with His presence and peace.
- Give wisdom and compassion to the doctors.
- Reduce the swelling and amniotic fluid build-up in me, so I don't develop Mirror Syndrome.
- Help us make much of Jesus throughout this process in our words and actions.
- See His will done no matter what.

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