Waiting is Overrated

90% of the time when friends look at Mercy's precious face they mention that she is her daddy's twin. While I for sure know she got her endless eyelashes and the precious dimples that kiss her cheeks from her daddy, Chris and I usually look at her and don't really see either of us in that blue eyed blondie... What we do see is an outgoing, talkative little extrovert growing up before our eyes.

...and if you know us, you know how very little of that she got from us.

But! I just realized something!

If Mercy had waited it out and come on her due date, today would be her birthday. As I've thought about that over the past few days, I've realized that she and I have something in common after all...

It's our feelings about waiting:

It's. Over. Rated.

Ten weeks before her anticipated birthday, this one decided waiting was overrated:

See...? She was ready for mommy and daddy hugs, and she wasn't all about waiting for them.

...and she didn't have to, because waiting is overrated.

So Chris and I have been talking about growing our family... and seeing that waiting is so overrated, I've been bringing kids home in my head for months now.

What does that mean, you ask?

Let me explain... Cholestasis of Pregnancy has a 70% recurrence rate and for me, preeclampsia has about a 40% chance of recurring. I've written before about the "pre-guilt" I feel about pregnancy and the possible births of future children so bringing kids home may not look for us like you might think.

We had a meeting last week with a social worker to talk about bringing home foster kids and possible adoption. That's our desire and that's where we believe the Lord is guiding our hearts and our family.

And get this... it looks like He's not only guiding us there, but He's guiding us there not on my timeline (how dare He!), and He's asking us to WAIT.

Come on, God?! Don't you know that waiting is overrated??

GOSH! 

So, Lord willing, it looks like we'll be foster certified somewhere around the beginning of fall... and after that, well, it's just a waiting game for a phone call for a child that falls within the boundaries we have set.

And well... that just sounds like a lot of waiting to me.

Have I not learned to trust my mighty God's perfect timing yet?? After this amazing year and after He has proved Himself and His timing over and over, I still want to make it happen my way and in my time... Crazy.

However, even with my ridiculous control issues and lack of trust, I just know there has to be some purpose in the waiting. 

Thinking about all of this in the days leading up to this first anniversary of Mercy's due date, I remembered this one most important detail:

Despite Mercy's best efforts, we did have to wait. 

After waiting several years to make a pregnancy announcement, Mercy finally came and we had to wait some more... and what a blessing those seven long weeks of waiting to bring her home from the NICU turned out to be as we were able to use that time period as an opportunity to pray for her, to grow and to prepare our hearts and our home for her arrival.

As I have pondered those seven weeks of waiting I've realized something completely new and foreign to me...

Waiting is so not overrated!

Waiting, while hard and often painful, is a gift... a gift of time, growth, and prayer, a gift of heart preparation... a gift this mama needs, whether she likes to admit it or not!

So... wait we will... and we will turn this waiting period into an opportunity to pray for the child that may be being born right this minute, or may be being neglected and so desperately in need of prayer. We will wait and we will pray earnestly for our possible future children, foster or adopted, who are so in need of prayer from a mama and daddy who don't yet know them but love them so dearly.

Pray with us?

Dear NICU Family

One year ago today we said "goodbye" to one big room that I was terrified of at one time.

More than a room, really. It was a room that was filled with YOU! ...the nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, lactation staff, monitors, stickers, nasal cannulas, ventilators, incubators, pumps, feeding tubes, bili lights, scales and so much more.

Over the course of seven weeks, my fear of you transformed into admiration and love. YOU became family to me. You loved Mercy like she was your own, you provided for her needs, you kept her alive when she was at her weakest.

When I couldn't be there to be her mama, YOU were there.

ALL of you... at different times.

Monitors, you told us how well Mercy was breathing and when she needed extra support you (loudly) made sure we were aware and got her taken care of.

Ventilator, you opened her lungs and let her breathe for a most important week.

Incubator, you warmed her tiny body so that she could gain grams and then ounces.

Feeding tube, you nourished that little bitty girl when I could not.

Nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, lactation staff, your love for my precious, fragile daughter will never be forgotten. You snuggled her, talked to her, bathed her, fed her, loved her and I know that you prayed for her. You were there ALL day when I could only be there a few hours a day.

NICU life was not easy, there were ups and downs, highs and lows, lots of grieving followed by lots of celebrating... all leading up to one incredibly important day.

March 7, 2013.

Our "Homecoming Day."

The most joyous occasion, oh how I cried when I said goodbye to you. I'm terrible at goodbyes, and we had become so close over the seven weeks we spent together... but it was time and we were ready.

You worked so hard to prepare that four pound girl for HOME, and she was more than ready.

It's hard to explain what it felt like, everything, all the trials and fears and victories all leading up to this one moment... walking out of the hospital doors for the first time with a baby. Going HOME.

Amazing. Going back to that remarkable moment brings tears to my eyes.

You did something beautiful for this family that is irreplaceable. You represented to us every dynamic of our walk with Jesus. The ups and the downs, the grieving and celebrating, all of the learning and growing, grams and then ounces... all leading up to one very important moment.

The moment we go HOME.

Our very own "Homecoming Day!"

You reminded me of the joy to be had in looking forward to our beautiful reunion with our Father in the home He has waiting for us.

I'll never forget the sadness I felt when we said goodbye to you or the impact you had on Mercy's life while she was with you, even better is the joy I have experienced with this sweet girl for the year she has been home with us.

Thank you for loving her, loving us, growing us. You will never be forgotten in this house!

Happy Homecoming Day!

**this is the last post of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Doctor So and So

I trusted you...

I trusted you to medically nurture my pregnancy, to keep me as informed as possible of what complications may arise and what they would mean, to value the life of the little person growing inside of me, to give me reasons to feel peace about the outcome of my pregnancy, to hear me, to take time to talk to me, to acknowledge my fear and my pain, offer solutions, comfort, expertise...

...you let me down.

You caused MANY tears, I said MANY ugly and mean things, I felt hatred in my heart towards the way you talked about my daughter her first few minutes in the world, I yelled and fought and CRIED at the thought of returning to you, I experienced tremendous anxiety when I knew you were on call at the hospital, increased heart rate, cold sweat, all of that...

But...

Despite YOU and ME and ALL of the circumstances, you very successfully brought my child into the world... and you taught me an important lesson about forgiveness while you did it.

Remembering the anger I felt toward you brings back emotions I experienced that are not pleasant or nice, and often makes me wonder what my Creator and Savior feels when I hurt Him and rebel against Him on a daily basis...

One more time... my Creator and my Savior.

...and I rebel against Him daily.

The Giver of my life and my child's life who rescued me, offering me eternal life because He loves me... that's the one I choose to sin against daily.

I believe He has every reason to feel infinitely more towards me what I have felt towards you.

It's taken more than a year to process the lesson you taught me and I still feel immense pain at times...

...but one year and a precious, healthy baby girl later I know that I've forgiven you.

Doctor, I forgive you because without you, that sweet girl may not be here today.

I forgive you...

...because Christ forgave me.

"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved,

compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,

bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other;

as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.

And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony."

Colossians 3:12-14

**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Drivers

I cherish your involvement in my life so very much.

For three weeks after Mercy came I was advised not to drive. And I hurt and I'm a wimp, so I knew I couldn't push the limits. Chris works so after I came home from the hospital and my mother went home to Georgia, I was stuck.

Stuck at home fifteen minutes away from my sick baby girl.
Fifteen minutes may not seem far... for many mamas with sick babies hours away it might seem like a dream come come true, a next door neighbor.

For me, it was another galaxy...

...and there was absolutely no way for me to get there on my own.

Until YOU stepped in!

YOU saw my desperate need.

YOU sought me out.

YOU sacrificed your time, gas, money, energy for me.

YOU brought me to my little girl, where I needed to be but could never have been without you stepping in.

Every day for three weeks each of you in a very literal way lived out the implications of the Gospel to me.

I can never thank you enough.

When I was stuck, alone in a dark place, you reminded me how GOD stepped in, how HE sought me out, and how HE sacrificed His Son for me, so that one day HE could bring me to a place I could never get without Him stepping in...

Absolutely amazing.

"And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God..."

(Ephesians 2:1-8)

What a beautiful truth, I will remember you every day for what you did for me, I will worship HIM continually for what He did for me!



**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Baby Boy In The Corner

You made your entrance into the world and the NICU just a few weeks before us and you were making great progress, growing and doing every bit of what you needed to do to head home.

You were so loved by your nurses who used to say you were going to grow up to be a pastor and evangelist. There was nobody in the NICU who raised their hands higher than you did!

Oh, I used to love peeking over to your corner isolette by the window, you were precious! I never could understand how your mommy could stand to be away from you for so long.

Your granddaddy though, he was different. He couldn't handle being away from you for even one day. It was so obvious how important you were to him, every time he came to see you he was dressed to the nines for a very special occasion. YOU were his daily special occasion. I remember seeing him in the waiting room once when the unit was closed. There was a new baby in the NICU, so we would all have to wait a while to see our little ones. His ride couldn't wait with him and we watched him make phone call after phone call until he could find another ride a little bit later. He HAD to see you.

He loved you. So. Much.

I just loved your relationship. There were very rarely words, he rarely held you. But you were never alone. He was always there, by your side, loving you with every bit of the love in his heart.

We would visit and catch up sometimes while we were all scrubbing in and he would update us on your progress with THE biggest smile on his face. You were absolutely the apple of his eye.

I remember your last day in the NICU, meeting your mom and congratulating her on your homecoming. Your granddaddy was by her side as she got to know you, but when your mama's boyfriend came in, he had to leave. He didn't put up a fight, he didn't get upset, he just waited outside the door. I imagine him praying for you, for your transition into a stranger's home, that you would be loved and cared for well.

Oh, sweet boy, how loved you are today! 

When your nurse told me through tears that she ran into your granddaddy... Oh, I know that his prayers for you were answered! How loved, how cared for you are today in your Heavenly Father's arms!

You went home from the NICU healthy, and not many days later you went to your eternal home healthier.

You left an impact, baby boy. You and that precious granddaddy of yours painted a picture of a beautiful relationship...

...a picture of a child deeply loved by a Father, of a Father who would do anything to be by His child's side.

You reminded me of myself, broken, in need of a Father, a Savior. You showed me that even in my deepest moments of brokenness I can, I must, lift my hands high in praise and thanksgiving.
Your granddaddy, he was the only father you knew, he reminded me of my Heavenly Father, Who loves me deeply and stands by my side in silent confidence. I needed that in those so broken days crying by Mercy's bedside. Sweet boy, you reminded me of the hope I have in a Savior Who I need every day, a Savior Who is worthy of my praise.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us,

that we should be called children of God!

And that is what we are!

1 John 3:1

Oh, to see you in your Daddy's arms! What a glorious sight that will be!



**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Breastfeeding Gurus

THIS was a milestone week for us, one that has had ALL of you in my heart! This week we finished up the last of our formula and packed up the bottles that held the breastmilk and formula that grew our daughter over the last year. You were each such a huge part of the journey that led us to this week!

About four months ago I knew our breastfeeding journey was over and I found myself packing up my pump. It was such a unique experience, we had a love/hate relationship. On one hand it was INCREDIBLY freeing, this long and grueling part of my life was over! Amazing! On the other hand, I found myself grieving this part of my life ending. Breastfeeding was important to me. Before Mercy came, I set a goal... I wanted to make it to a year. At that time, I had no idea that the majority of Mercy's "breastfeeding" would come via electrical equipment that would cause bizarre and extraordinarily painful things like Raynaud's Phenomena and De Quervain's Tenosynovitis.

Despite our bizarre and awkward experience, however, I still had my heart set on making it to a year.

We made it EIGHT months, never exclusive, we supplemented with HMF or preemie formula from the very beginning and after eight months we were exclusive formula and baby food.

ALL of that was hard for this mama's heart.

You made it easier.

NICU breastfeeding gurus, you have a hard job.
Day one in my hospital bed, you showed up with this huge piece of equipment that I had no clue what to do with. You were there every day from the colostrum we swabbed in Mercy's cheeks to the first time we tried nursing during her regular tube feeding. You reminded me when I wept that it was not worth weeping over. When I cried over 10 cc's, you reminded me that 10 cc's was better than no cc's, and when there are no cc's that's ok too. You reminded me that Mercy was growing, and as far as feeding her went, that's what counted, not breast milk vs. formula.

Mama breastfeeding gurus, you have been there and back.
Your advice and the non judgmental viewpoints from mama's who struggled were immensely helpful to me when I wanted to quit. You shared your experiences, your successes, your hearts.

Breastfeeding gurus, you encouraged me not to give up, and when it was time to give up and I felt like I had failed, you encouraged me to look at my big eight month old girl growing like a weed. The evidence of incredible success stands in front of me each and every day!

Yesterday, as I packed up our Medela bottles that held so many triumphs and tears, I was reminded of the picture you painted for me...

...a picture of a King who didn't give up on a difficult mission, who, to the world, appeared to have failed His mission as He hung dying on a cross. But, oh, the success that was clearly before Him, clearly before us as we experience His saving graces each and every day!

THANK YOU for the example you set for me, the reminder that success may not look like what the world (or I!) thinks it should look like, the reminder of a King who wouldn't give up so that I could stand in His presence one day.

YOU made a difference, you had an impact on our lives!

Thank you!


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**

Dear Friend Who Knew Me

To many people I come off as a totally awkward, not sure what to say but super happy introvert with some ridiculous anxiety thrown in here and there.

You, friend, are one of a handful of friends who sees right through that awkward lady with issues.

I don't know how, I never see it coming, but every now and then somebody does it, somebody knows me totally and completely. You know me.

I'll never forget the moment I realized it.

Day two in the hospital, I returned a text from you asking if I needed anything.

"Something comfy, elastic-y, something to make me feel pretty." I was so over the hospital gown.

You work next door to a thrift shoppe, I didn't know what you would find, but surely they had something elastic-y in there!

You said you would see what you could do, and then I waited with my puffy knees expecting some type of old lady gown to drape over my swollen-ness.

You walked through the door with a box and a big smile, it was so good to see your face!

...and friend, the memory of opening that box you brought me has become for me such a physical representation of Psalm 139.

You have searched me, Lord,

and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

you, Lord, know it completely.

You hem me in behind and before,

and you lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

too lofty for me to attain.

(vv. 1-6)

That day and over the course of the next seven weeks those verses would mean more to me than I ever realized they would.

I needed that reminder, I needed to remember that God knew me, He knew what I needed when I needed it, He knew each and every moment of those days, they were written in His book.

Even more so, I needed the reminder that He knew that tiny girl laying in an incubator down the hall raising her hand to the sky and praising Him with these words:

For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place,

when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body;

all the days ordained for me were written in your book

before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them,

they would outnumber the grains of sand—

when I awake, I am still with you.

(vv. 13-18)

Thank you friend, for reminding me how good it is to know Him and to be known by Him!

Oh, and when I opened the box you handed me, I pulled out the shiniest hot pink satin pajamas with a loose drawstring waistband... amazing!


**this post is part of a seven week series of 'letters' to people, events and things that were part of the life transforming work God did in our lives during Mercy's stay in the NICU - for more on our growth in the NICU, check out our CaringBridge page**