Monday, September 24, 2012

The Voice of Truth...

Every time I hear that song... I think of the movie, "Facing The Giants,"  and then I think about my young man facing the biggest giant of all, walking!  I can't imagine being 7 years old, and having never walked.  His spirit through the whole process was amazing!

I know that I jumped from birth in my first post, to seven years old and walking.  I should probably do a lot of this in chronological order, but, well, as the memories come, I feel led to share.  Some things are still very painful to share, and I know the Lord will show me the time to share those things.

....oh what I would do to have, the kind of strength it takes to stand before a giant, with just a sling and a stone... surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors, shaking in their armor, wishing they had the strength to stand...but the giants calling out my name as he laughs at me...Reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed.. The giant keeps on telling me, time and time again, "Boy, you'll never win.. You'll never win..."

"... But the voice of truth, tells me a different story, the voice of truth says do not be afraid... The voice of truth, say THIS IS FOR MY GLORY, out of all the voices calling out to me... I will to listen and believe the voice of truth..."

It would have been so easy to get discouraged every time a doctor told me that Wyatt would never walk, and that my hopes for an independent and abundant life on his own was too much to ask for.  But even before God revealed to us the reasoning behind our life, and why were chosen for such an amazing calling and testimony, I knew that if God chose Wyatt for His miracle, I had to use the tools at hand, and know that it was all in the Lord's hands, not ours.  And by trusting in God, to guide a brave doctor's hands, we got just that.

Isaiah 61:1-3

61 The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

What better place to start... than at the beginning...

It's September 13th, 2012.  A significant day for me.  On this day, ten years ago, I gave birth to two tiny human creatures that God blessed me with.  Now, at the time, I wasn't saved.  I was pretty lost actually.  But even as a lost person, I still felt the significance of what was happening.  I knew on that day, my life was changing forever, and I wasn't sure how.

At the time the boys were born, I already had Elizabeth.  She was two.   I was moving along, with nothing significant going on.  I worked, was a mom, etc.  

I had been in and out of the hospital for two months, and kept telling my OB/GYN that something just didn't feel right.  The babies moved different, one didn't move hardly at all.  My doctor kept assuring me it was nothing, but I went in again on the 13th, first because another good friend of mine had just had her first baby on the 11th, but then because something, again, didn't feel right.  I was 27 weeks pregnant, and at that point they could put a fetal monitor on me for both boys.  Thirty minutes after they hooked me up, traffic picked up in my room.  Questions asked, then answered, and then someone else would buzz through.  Doc came in and said I think we need to do an ultrasound... okay.  Most horrific ultrasound experience ever happened (I am talking painful), and no one really said much along the way.  Then they moved me to the labor and delivery room right behind the nurses station, and I knew something was up.  Suddenly the nurses who thought I was crazy and overly cautious were very attentive to my every question, save one.  What is going on?  The answer I always got was, we are waiting on test results and the doctor will come in.  Finally the moment arrives for the doctor to give me the verdict, and it was heart breaking.

Twin A wasn't doing well.  They had decided to try some positioning to get his heart rate up, but if he didn't show any improvement, both boys would have to come early.  I knew in my heart they weren't ready... so tiny, and so early.  Forty five minutes later, another heart monitor check confirmed all our fears.  The boys would have to come. Now.  

At first I felt some comfort that my husband (at the time) would be able to go in with me during the emergency cesarean.  As they wheeled me out, the nurse again broke the bad news that this time it would be alone.  They feared something would go wrong because they were so early, and couldn't take a chance.  I cried through the whole experience.  What I had hoped was going to be an exciting time (twins, its so neat and something not many get to have!) was quickly turning into a nightmare.

They got me in quickly, and the anesthesiologist was so nice.  He kept talking to me, and telling me it was going to be okay, and to just keep breathing.  By this point, I was bawling.  I was prepped and had a spinal tap in about 25 minutes.  The moment of what is normally sheer joy was meeting in a train-wreck of panic for me.  And then twin B came.  He was 2 pounds 6 ounces, 12.5 inches long.  His cry was tiny!  Twin A followed, with a comment from Doc that said, well there's the problem.  He was 2 pounds 2 ounces, exactly 12 inches long.  His cry was almost the tiniest thing I had ever heard.  And then they were gone.  No glance over the curtain for mom, no kisses on the forehead... just gone.     

Our families were in the hallway as they rushed the newborn preemies by, and I think it was my mom that said their cries sounded like tiny kittens.  

I was told we were fortunate, that the hospital we were in was able to administer surfactant, and that was critical because the boys were not developed enough to have produced their own.  Me being me, I rolled my eyes because I sure wasn't feeling lucky.  I was scared.  I was upset.  I was traumatized.  

By now it was after 5, and friends from work showed up to see not only me, but our coworker who had given birth to a healthy baby boy a couple of days before.  It had started to storm, and it seemed the labor and delivery ward was extremely busy.  I didn't think much about it.  My main focus was being able to sit up to hopefully catch a glimpse of the boys before they were whisked away to Tulsa, to the EOPC unit.  We had been told that originally, the twins would be life flighted.  The storms kept that from happening, so they were driving a specially equipped ambulance down instead.  This meant more delay, more precious time that they desperately needed to be in a special unit ready for their tiny bodies, and all the struggles that would come with that.

Around midnight, they arrived to take our precious little ones to the unknown, for us anyway.  There was no way to transport me with them, so I had to stay behind.  I asked Brandon and his mom to go to Tulsa, so that someone would be there to make decisions, and so someone was there.  And then the moment came... and I finally got to see my babies before they went away.  It was the first time I had seen them... as they were leaving together in an isolette.

I found out later, by accident almost it seems now, that the ambulance came down for 2 babies (mine) but there was an emergency that came while they were in transport down, and they wound up taking 3 back by ambulance that stormy night.  the blue thing you see in the isolette is a hand pump.  Some wonderful person hand pumped my tiny little babies lungs the whole way to Tulsa.  This picture was the only time I saw the boys for 4 days.

So that is the beginning... I suppose there is more to the story... but I think I will save that for another day.  The emotions that come with these pictures is alot... even as I am saved now and understand what it is all about.

What is it all about you ask?  It took a few years for me to get it.  Through all the doctors, and therapists, and exhaustion... I realize how lucky I am to have them, because they strengthen our testimony for the Lord. Dylan (as you will learn more about as time goes on) has a testimony that is stronger than mine could ever be.  My hope is that when people see Dylan, they respond to that inner voice that says, be thankful, for the beautiful, healthy children you have.  In doing that, he fulfills his charge to point others to Christ, in thanksgiving.  And Wyatt, my sweet wonderful Wyatt, who didn't walk until two years ago... well he shows us that God still makes big miracles happen, you just have to trust Him, and be willing to put your children in his hands....

Ten years ago, my lost life changed forever, for the Glory of God... and I didn't even know it.