Scotty rocks!

A while back I started a fan club on Facebook called "Scotty rocks". I haven't updated it for quite a while, but I think it's about time. As I type, my awesome husband is heading out in the dark night of rain to pick up an antibiotic for me (yes, I have an infection on top of everything else going on), after having cooked dinner, spent the afternoon with our baby, grocery shopped and got Natty totally ready for bed with stories and all. This is nothing for Super Scotty who has always been a great husband but he has totally kicked it up a few notches when I went in for bed rest a few weeks ago. Every day he woke up early- and he's not a morning person- to get Natty out of bed. He fixed her breakfast, changed every diaper, dressed her (and she always looked cute) brought her to and from the clinic, made her lunch, put her down for a nap, brought her back to the clinic or out on errands with him, remembered her juice and diapers and wipes when they went out, made her dinner, bathed her, got her ready for bed and put her down. On top of this, he went grocery shopping, encouraged me, brought me stuff I needed for my extended stay in the Château Garden Clinic, made lots of phone calls to inform people of what was going on and who knows what other things I'm not aware of. He even went to my play group one day! All of this and never once complaining, never once snapping at me, never once in a foul mood. And now that I'm home and recovering from surgery and feeling a bit yuck from the infection, he continues to almost single-handedly take care of Natty and even made French toast for dinner tonight. My husband doesn't cook (but is capable of almost anything when he puts his mind to it). He picks up things I drop cause it hurts to bend over, he gets out of bed in the night to check on Natty when she's crying, and even though I'm capable, he still gets Natty out of bed in the morning cause he knows it hurts to walk around a lot. I think I must have the best husband in the world and can't thank God enough that when it really matters- his character and Christ-likeness are proven as gold. I love you Scotty!!

Touch and Go

A doctor friend of ours wisely warned us that the road with Zion is going to be very long and things will be touch and go for a while. I think it's starting to sink in today after a very draining visit this morning when his doctor informed us that the leak they had thought was taken care of yesterday was back again. The doctor seemed stressed and tense and didn't help my emotional state at all. He said that if things didn't clear up this afternoon, they would need to do surgery tomorrow. I just had this overwhelming urge to scoop up my little boy and take him home. I don't want to see any more tubes inserted in his body. I don't want to hear that they had to sedate him to do yet another painful procedure. I don't want to wake up every morning wondering what else could possibly have happened to him in the night. I don't want to see his frail little body lying there unresponsive, thinking as I leave that it might be the last time I see him breathing. These were my terrible thoughts today and the whole time I held his little hand, I couldn't help thinking that we might never take him home. I don't have the peace today that I had yesterday and I can not bring myself to even pretend to think and believe in the best. I'm glad there is grace when our faith fails and I am praying for God to restore that faith to me now.

Day 6

Today we decided to take Natty up to the clinic with us and spend lunch time/nap time at the apartment of some friends who live a block away so that we could return after lunch to spend some more time with Zion. I keep remarking to Scotty how very quickly each day passes by! We wake up and spend some family time together in bed while drinking coffee, get ready (which can be a slow process for me as I'm still hurting from the surgery) and head up to the hospital to spend a half hour or so with our baby boy. Then back home for lunch, a nap for Natty and often for me too, and then back to the clinic for another short visit in the afternoon. Back home for dinner and bedtime. This is interspersed with pumping and storing milk every 2 hours or so. I might have the time for a conversation with a friend or relative back home and maybe to check email as well. The days are passing by so rapidly! I'm desperate to communicate more with people who are emailing and calling and wondering how they can help, but I just don't have the time or energy yet. So, when we arrived this morning, the doctor explained that the air leak that caused Zion's lung to collapse the first time has returned and it seems that no matter what they do, it's not going away. They had several surgeons look at him and a specific specialist who moved the tube around yesterday and managed to get the air out came back this morning and moved the tube to a new spot. The doctor explained that this is a serious issue and as long as the air remains, he will not be able to get better and it's the main thing they're focusing on now. We're praying that this new positioning will keep the air out for good and that the tube will soon be removed permanently. We'll find out the results of his lab tests tomorrow as far as the intestinal infection is concerned. We're also praying that it won't be as serious and dangerous as it can become. By the afternoon, the doctors were very happy with the lung issue taken care of and said he behaved much better today than yesterday- meaning there were fewer complications to keep them on their toes. They reminded me again of what a strong little guy he is and how much more medicine it takes to knock him out when he needs a painful procedure done than it does with other babies. That might not bode well when I'm trying to get him napping down the road...but I'll take it! Natty seems to enjoy seeing him, although she made the first comment that showed us that she was not fully OK with his condition when she pointed to his ventilator tube and repeated, "Take it out, Mommy. Take it out." She also asked a few times to bring baby Zion home. The cry of my heart, as well. I found that today was the first day that upon hearing difficult news and seeing the stress of the doctor, I didn't cave. The Lord sent some beautiful and strong verses through emails this morning and a peace that overcame the circumstances and kept me strong and hopeful in light of all that continues to plague our baby. I'd love to feel that way everyday! So, we close another day with hope and thankful for stability. We look forward to seeing what God does.

Clinic hopping

Sorry you're going to get all the pics first. Blogger has changed something and I can't seem to organize them around my text...

The virgin Mary and Jesus looking over me as I recovered from my C-section.

Right before surgery and the arrival of Zion. I look happy, but I'm not actually too thrilled this is all happening.

First day of a short-lived bed rest stay in my own home. Yes, that is Natty's bib. And, my bedpan...

Mommy and Natty are resting. Pretty sure I got a sponge bath this day so I'm looking pretty good. :)

The golden thumb in the entrance to the Garden Clinic.

The pool. Can't imagine it ever got warm enough to be used.

The reception desk. Used to be the bar and floating dance floor.

Natty entertains herself with videos.

Well, my slow days on bed rest before Zion came often brought the desire to blog, but because I had to have my feet up higher than my head, I found the angle very awkward for typing. So, I'll take the time now to give a little tour of clinics. We'll start with Talentum- the Garden Clinic. This lovely retreat is nestled between the major highway running through the south zone of La Paz (the part of town closest to us) and the road that leads up to Mallasilla. It was fantastically close to the house compared to most of the nice clinics in this city and boasted a beautiful yard, swimming pool and various plants, trees and flowers. The clinic actually used to be a home that is now converted into a plastic surgery site and is somewhat frequently used by my doctor, who has some type of friendship with the surgeon who owns the place, for her patients who need less medical care and more rest. Because my main purpose in those days was to be on my back, she decided that I should at least enjoy good care by the attentive and friendly nurses and a beautiful view out my sliding glass windows of the sky and the greenery. It was a godsend, to be sure. There was cable, there was wi-fi, there was a menu with steak!, there was the treat of seeing outside, and there were 2 nurses who worked hard to keep me comfortable all hours of the day and night. I also had an incredibly large bathroom, that I wasn't able to get up and enjoy, complete with walk-in closet, whirlpool tub, and large shower. The benefit of the place once being a home, I suppose. There were also 2, tasteful topless women framed in pictures hanging in front of my bed. I quickly got tired of them and decided they were not a part of the decor I wanted for my temporary residence. Nobody seemed to miss them when they were gone. Natty loved to come and walk out on my porch, play barefoot in the grass (which is a very rare luxury in this arid and cold city), pick up unripe plums that had fallen from the tree, stick her hands in the cold pool and watch videos. I had tons of visitors to make the time pass a little faster but constantly on my mind was the uncertain future of what would happen with my baby. Every other day seemed to bring a new scare, even after I had undergone the procedure to sew my cervix closed, the contractions returned and the days extended longer than originally planned. And yet, I was content to do whatever it took to keep that little boy inside. I even got excited about what little projects I might accomplish once I was home and able to sit up, knowing that I would not be off strict bed rest until the baby came. God's perfect plans were different however and my doctor continued to reassure me that those 9 days made a world of difference in Zion's growth and strength. I am so thankful for that.

So, after a wonderful day and a half of reclining in my own bed, I was back in the car headed to a new clinic- The Virgin of Asuncion. Here there was no menu, there were no attentive nurses, there was no outside view, there was no tub, there was just the very basics...but also what my doctor considers to be the best NICU unit. The rest of the clinic impressed me so little that I have a hard time believing her, but must trust because this is where my child must stay. At least our good friend is a doctor there and he actually pumped air for who knows how long into my baby's lungs when they collapsed.

So, there is a little tour of my life in La Paz clinics. How happy I am to be home!

A good day.

As much as I don't want to admit it to myself, I know that there will be good days and bad days in our journey with Zion. I want to think that because today was a good day, all will be well and nothing more serious will happen to our little boy. I really, really want to believe that. But, I know that the fact of the matter is that he will continue to pass through tests and so will we. But for today, I will rejoice. We called the doctor this morning to check in on our son- it seems that the major things he has experienced thus far were in the night. The doctor said he was very stable all night and no intervention was necessary. Oh, how I prayed for this! And then I actually got some milk when I pumped! Pumping with Natalie was always stressful because I never seemed to produce much and I wasn't looking forward to going back to this chore a recommended 8-10 times a day for Zion. However, I am grateful that my milk has come in without needing a medicinal push and that I'm actually making something that will help him get big and strong. Scotty and I enjoyed 45 minutes or so with Zion and he even gripped my hand and kicked his legs in response to our chitter-chatter and touch. The doctor told us his brain looks good, his blood tests are coming back very positive and that they have much hope that even though his situation is still critical, he is responding very well to the treatments they are doing and that he is a fighter. My son is a fighter! Scotty and I are such chill people that I never expected to have one of those children that could be labeled "fighter". But it makes me very happy. While Scotty was out trying to get a boot off our car, I had a lovely conversation with the nurse on duty. I was really hoping to get to know the nurses on staff and our doctors as well, realizing that they are the ones caring around the clock for Zion and making sure he is surviving. This was a perfect opportunity and as she asked questions about our lives, I found myself able to share my faith and what exactly we believe as expressed in the Bible. I found out that she also had a preemie baby, earlier and smaller than Zion, and can empathize with our trials. How neat to know that this woman who is caring for my son, was in my shoes a decade or so earlier! So, I returned home very content with my visit, hoping for more like it, and thankful for so many of you who have been praying and sending beautiful notes our way. This is definitely one way that God uses of sustaining us in these times and although I can't respond to you all, know that I am touched by each line we receive from you. And now, I am alone at home- Scotty off to see Zion and Natty playing at a neighbor's house. The windows are open, the skies are blue and I can rest. God, thank you for rest!

Zion Scott

It's hard to believe I'm back home while my baby is 30 minutes away, fighting to remain stable. My favorite part of the day at the clinic was when I could shuffle or be wheeled down to the elevator and ride a floor up into the neonatal nursery to see my son. I enjoyed the beeps of his monitors, assured that as long as I heard the rhythmic beeping, my son was still breathing. I liked to hear his doctor tell me that he was stable. I didn't like to hear him tell me (as he did several times) that he caused him suffering last night or made him age 10 years (when his lung collapsed). But I loved to wash my hands, warm them up under his heater and grab a tiny arm or leg and start talking to him. He's mostly sedated at this point and has a couple tubes coming out of his mouth and had one coming out of each side keeping air moving past his lungs. They usually have his eyes covered with some type of bandage and keep little cotton puffs on his feet to keep them warm. But, he's still adorable and one morning I was able to see his whole face uncovered and noticed immediately how much he looks like his daddy. I would talk to him about Natalie and the kitties and what we would do when he comes home. I would tell him to get strong fast and not to forget that when Mommy and Daddy aren't around, God is right there with him. I read him one of my new favorite Psalms (105) and sang "Jesus Loves Me" to him ("Little ones to Him belong; they are weak, but He is strong). I tried not to cry a lot. Today he seemed more responsive to our touch and voice, jerking his little arms or legs a bit when we would caress him. As much as I did not care for the clinic I was in, I would have happily stayed in his nursery room until he was ready to come out. We were distracted as we drove home today, so I didn't have much time to think about the fact that we were leaving our baby behind, but as soon as I got in the door and looked around, home just didn't feel right without Zion in it. I didn't know where to start. Since I was on bed rest for 9 days, and then recovering from a C-section for another 3, a shower sounded nice, but I couldn't manage to bring myself to do anything for a while but sit on the couch and stare into space. How could something so familiar and normal suddenly feel so out of whack? My thoughts keep drifting back to my little guy- his chest being forced up and down by a ventilator, his cute little perfect toes, his adorable nose being stretched a bit to one side from the tubes, his somewhat transparent skin. The last couple of weeks have definitely taught me how to pray and how to recollect my thoughts to the truths of who the Lord is when they start to wander to those dark places. Not one day has gone by where I haven't felt God's presence, even in the midst of despair, sadness, fear and pain. I know we have a long road ahead and even now I have a hard time trusting that our baby will be OK. I've read the Bible too much and known too many amazing Christian people who have gone through tragedy to believe that God's perfect plan is always the one we would choose for it to be. But, I continue to trust that He will sustain us, our son, our faith and prove Himself good. His promises are the only firm and unchanging things in my life.