I've been planning this week's focused on Glory post for a long time...ever since I realized that Ammah Grace's birthday was going to fall on Tuesday this year. And then we were so busy celebrating her birthday (and catching up from celebrating her birthday :)) that I am *still* days late with the post! Oh, well...I guess perhaps "better late than never" applies here...at least I hope!
And today has special significance, too...8 years ago today I came home after a week in the hospital, leaving our tiny 4-day-old baby daughter in the NICU 2 1/2 hours away from home. I was so excited to be going home to the rest of my family, but Billy and I felt like our hearts were being ripped out as we walked down the hall away from the NICU that afternoon. Ammah Grace's condition at that point was still very unstable, and I couldn't imagine being so far away from her...but I had been discharged from the hospital, and while we knew we'd be coming back as often as possible, we needed to get home and figure out a plan for the remainder of her time in NICU.
Earlier that morning I had called my dad (who, along with my mom, was caring for our 3 older children in Fort Smith) to wish him a happy birthday. Here is what I wrote last year about that phone call:
I remember calling Daddy to tell him Happy Birthday and bursting into tears on the phone...at the fact that I had to leave my baby in such uncertain condition, at the fact that Billy was driving to pick me up in a snowstorm, and at the fact that it was Daddy's birthday and we weren't going to be able to celebrate. He did what he had done best for 35 years....listened, encouraged me, prayed for me, and somehow made me feel better. I knew that when I got home, there would be a big hug (and probably a few tears :)) waiting for me. I apologized for the fact that there would be no big birthday celebration for his 70th birthday...to which he replied that the best present he could have was for me to be out of the hospital, and Ammah Grace to be alive and getting the best care possible. We had no idea that that would be his last birthday...although with the health issues he had been struggling with, there was a tiny wonder in the back of my mind.
Just another word or two about that snowstorm...It snowed the night I was transported to Little Rock in the back of an ambulance. It snowed the day Billy picked me up when I was discharged. It snowed three days later when Billy and I went back to Little Rock to see our tiny girl, and it snowed almost every other trip we made there or back the remainder of her time in NICU. As we drove home that day, I remember realizing how God's hand had been working even before Ammah Grace's birth to prepare us for this time...
Before Emlyn was born, we realized we were going to have to have a larger vehicle...our two-door Toyota Tercel was not going to cut it with three children in carseats! So through friends at church, we found a used van...a big blue GMC Safari that I absolutely LOVED. Just after we discovered we were expecting Ammah Grace, however, Billy was broadsided coming home from work one day, and while he escaped without injury, the big blue van I loved was totalled.
It was one of those "Really, Lord? Are you serious? Why in the world are we having to deal with this NOW?" times. The wreck was 100% the other man's fault, his insurance covered everything, and we ended up with a later-model, lower-mileage, much more dependable van that got much better gas mileage out of the deal. But...as anyone who's had that sort of wreck knows, dealing with insurance, rental cars, and locating a new vehicle after a wreck is almost a full-time job. It was a bit overwhelming for a while for a pregnant mom of three young children who had just gotten off bedrest.
As we drove home that February 11 eight years ago, though, I realized the "all things work together for good" in that months-before wreck. The big blue van I loved had been showing its age, and we were no longer comfortable driving it out of town. Suddenly we were needing to make multiple trips per week between Little Rock and Fort Smith. We could never have done that in the old van...especially with all the bad weather we encountered...nor were we in a position to replace the old van at that point. I realized that in the wreck that caused so much extra work those months before, God had provided us with a newer vehicle that was up to the task ahead that we didn't even know we needed to prepare for. What a blessing and reminder that His hand was in every detail of this difficult situation.
That wasn't the only provision God had made months previously for this day and the days to follow. Leaving our tiny, extremely ill little girl alone in Little Rock was terribly traumatic for her worried mama and daddy. However, the hospital explained that we were allowed to name a "surrogate" who could visit Ammah Grace in the NICU who would be able to sit with her, talk to her, read to her, and later on, hold her, in our absence. The catch was, only one person could be named, and the arrangements had to be made before we left. The original plan was for my aunt, who lives in Little Rock, to be the "surrogate"...but then we discovered that the lighting in the NICU was an issue with a long-term eye problem my aunt has, so there was no way she would be able to visit. We had many friends in Conway, the town 30 minutes away where I grew up, but needed someone closer who would be able to check in often.
As I tried to pray instead of worry about this latest dilemma, a solution came from an unexpected place. My uncle's mom had just moved to Little Rock from California, where she had lived all my life. Mrs. Gladys was quite up in years at the time, but still healthy and active, and she had volunteered to be our "surrogate" to visit Ammah Grace in our absence. Again...God had provided before we ever knew we had a need. Mrs. Gladys will always have a special place in our hearts!
Remembering the early days and weeks of our youngest daughter's life brings back such a huge flood of memories...and not all good ones. Meeting after meeting with doctor after doctor with grim prognoses and one complication after another. Hearing the alarms go off and watching her turn blue from lack of oxygen, and words we learned to hate..."code blue", "ambu bag", "desats" and "bradys".
And yet there are so many good memories as well...and words that were very precious..."breathing room air" (finally!), "she kept down 1 cc of milk!", "up an ounce", "the bleed has begun to resolve itself", "she's a miracle!" (from one of the top neonatologists in the country, who was also one of our favorite NICU doctors), and finally "it's time to go home".
Apparently those last words were the words she was waiting to hear. We had some false alarms in the months she was home with her monitor, but never a true "episode" (despite the fact that she had to be ambu bagged only hours before we left) once we got home. None of the dire predictions of the NICU doctors have come true, and the only lasting reminder of those early days is the occasional bluish tint to her lips when she gets really cold.
As I said in my Facebook status on Ammah Grace's birthday:
Celebrating 8 years of Ammah Grace today! We are so thankful for our everyday, walking {or more often running}, talking {all. the. time.}, breathing {which we'll never take for granted after seeing her "blue" too many times}, giggling {ALWAYS!} reminder of God's amazing grace, power, and goodness.
She is truly our walking, talking, giggling daily reminder of God's glory and grace. We are so thankful not only for God's faithfulness and goodness and the many prayers He has answered in Ammah Grace's life, but also for the many, many people who prayed for her, and for us, during those early days, weeks, and months.
That is so wonderful! And she is beautiful. :)
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