Anything But Boring

This journey with Zoe in the Nicu has been anything but boring. An unbearable roller coaster at times, mysteriously stuck in its cycling- and you find yourself screaming, I want to get off! But, you aren't in control. You don't even have access to an emergency break. Instead, you are on the ride, hanging on for dear life. The roller coaster takes sharp turns, and sometimes you are climbing high, to the top of the insurmountable mountain feeling pure joy and excitement. Suddenly, you are screaming out, seized with fear of yet another deep drop into uncertainty. This has happened more times than I can count...

I'm kinda tired of people saying, God won't give you more than you can bear, because it's been my experience that He always knows I can handle way more than I think I can. Perhaps it's just better to say, "Hey, you are going through a really hard time. I know it may not feel like it, but God is there. I know He didn't leave you. And, I know that He will, at the very least, give you the grace that you need to walk through today."

If I've learned anything walking through this whole Nicu experience, it's that I just don't have the grace for tomorrow. Things can change oh-so-quickly, and I find that I cannot even think about tomorrow let alone next week. I can only think about today and what it holds and tap into the grace that has been set before me. I guess it's that whole "let tomorrow worry about itself" thing from the Bible. Those are some pretty wise words, and I feel like I'm now living them.

It's been 10 weeks since Zoe came into this world and joined our family. She is still in the NICU, which means she still has some 'work' to do before they let her out. At the top of the list is no more bradycardia and desats in her oxygen levels. Next comes her ability to eat by mouth, and this week, she's had some set backs. We are currently in the "testing" stage as doctors try to figure out why her heart rate and oxygen levels continue to drop when she drinks from a bottle. So far, it's looking like severe reflux and that a thickening agent added to her milk will help. There will be several more tests this week to further investigate this issue.

I'm still making the hour and a half to two hour drive to be with her; spending nights in the lovely blue recliner in the corner; advocating, asking questions, doing research to educate myself, and participating in Zoe's morning rounds' discussion with her team of doctors. I feel very much a part of the decision making and appreciate the times they have asked my opinion or wanted feedback.

All I want is to bring Zoe home and not have to be in a hospital setting anymore. Sometimes being here, within these four walls, drives me crazy. And I repeatedly hear from the doctors and specialists, Give her time. Sometimes I look at them like they have four heads and I say, "I have! It's been 10 weeks!" And they stare back at me and remind me I would still be pregnant with this little one. (She wasn't due until October 22, and, surprise! she arrived August 2). Just another little lesson I'm learning- I can't control the timing of things either.

As I sit here and type in Zoe's hospital room, I am reminded to count my blessings with a grateful heart. My daughter has life and breath. She is progressing at her own pace and will eventually be ready to join our family outside the walls of the Nicu. And someday, I will look back on this season of our lives and be able to see more clearly not only the amazing work that took place in Zoe but also the work that was done in me.