April 13, 2007 Friends here and friends gone. . .

I just talked on the phone to Shanda, baby Ryan’s mom (CDH with a patch whom we met when they toured the NICU while Silas was on ECMO), yesterday for almost an hour. The last time I had seen Ryan was right before he was to fly home to Alaska and he did not appear stable to me. He was at Legacy on a vent and very weak. (It turns out that he got very ill just shortly before leaving.) I was so worried for that little family. Shanda said that she went home to get a few hours of sleep and in the morning found out that Ryan had been de-satting (his oxygen level in his blood kept dropping) but they’d brought it back up each time. Since this was not uncommon for Ryan to do, she continued her morning with a shower, getting her daughter ready, etc. When she got to the Alaskan NICU she found out that what they called “de-satting” was actually coding and they had performed CPR on his little body multiple times. It infuriates me when people can’t or don’t communicate the truth. “Oh, your son has been de-satting.” It should have been “Your son’s vitals keep crashing.” ANYWAY. . . Enough of the soap box. He is now doing really well. He is about nine months old and has a G-tube but the little tike actually nurses! And he is also starting solids. The tube feedings are just supplemental.

Shanda told me she may be coming to Oregon for a visit and I was thrilled at the prospect of not only seeing her little miracle, but watching Silas and Ryan play. It never ceases to fill me with wonder when NICU survivors who have come so close to leaving this earth, sit and play with each other right in front of my eyes. It feels like I am witnessing a profound miracle all over again. Of course, the swell of wonderment is always mixed with sadness for the little ones who are now in the Father’s arms. The thrill and joy are not diminished, just inextricably connected to the sadness. I could never have imagined feeling such intense emotions over the “silliest” things. I see a rainbow and I think of God’s promise to never destroy the earth by flood again. . . And I remember Jolee.

I see a lion and I am amazed at God’s awesome imagination with His creation and long for the day when that lion will lie down with a lamb. . . And I remember Judah.

I see Easter things and I think of the life, death and resurrection of our Lord, Jesus, and the awesome gift of grace he offers us. . . And I remember Drew.

I see the number eleven and I think about the birth of my first child born Sept. 11, and how my life was so amazingly and marvelously changed that day. . . And I remember Mert.

I see a newborn blanket and my heart swells with wonderment for the new life that will be wrapped in its folds. . . And I think of Joseph wrapped in his family’s loving arms for oh so brief a moment.

It is a strange mix of joy and grief that mingles just under the surface at any given moment. I guess that is what life is all about; growing deeper in understanding of both the good and the bad and gaining a profound appreciation for the good in life because of having tasted the bad. Lord, let me not grow bitter but grow more faithful in my trust of You and Your Almighty will. Remind me that I do not see the whole picture as You do, and that I am a thread in the tapestry, not the weaver. Most of all, Jesus, take us home soon where there will never again be a tear shed in sadness and not one speck of pain will blacken my soul. Thy kingdom come, Father, on earth as it is in Heaven. Thy kingdom come quickly.

~Tanaya~