I was just twenty years old when they first laid you on my chest. 8lbs 12oz, 21-1/2" long. Warm, crying, needing me, new.

So new.

Nothing about your arrival was quick. For hours upon hours I groaned and wept with pang after pang, trying not to watch the clock as hour after grueling hour and then day after grueling day went by,  but then-- suddenly-- you were here. With one push and in one great burst, sac still in tact until the midwife tore it open to pull you out, what seemed likely to never happen did happen: you were here.

Healthy, pink, soft, beautiful.

(Sometimes even still I think that is your way: slowly and at times painfully drawing things out until suddenly it all changes and I can hardly remember what the struggle was all about anyway.)

I reeled with the emotion of it all. My heart soared as a deep love and fierce protectiveness that I had never before known welled up inside of me, and simultaneously trembled with the knowledge that you were born broken and into a broken world and to broken parents.

Would I be as good to you as I wanted to be? Would I be able to take care of you, protect you, shield you, train you?

For weeks after you were born, I would hold you in the darkness, sitting in my rocking chair, tears streaming down my face.

How could I be enough?

I cried because I wanted to be. So badly I wanted to be!

I cried because I knew I couldn't be.

But He has been enough.

For you. For me.

For the broken parts of both of us that have brought us time and again to each other in repentance (and how thankful I have been over the years for your arms-- first round and dimpled and now long and lanky-- that have embraced me with free forgiveness whenever I have asked).

For the broken world that sometimes leaves us feeling bruised and battered.

For teaching us how to pick ourselves up, laugh much, share even more.

For learning how to let go and enjoy the gift of each day spent together.

You changed my life that day, Gabriel Sinclair Paladin. You are one of the best gifts I have ever received, far more precious and priceless than any thing I might ever acquire. You bear the image of the eternal God and even still, for a time anyway, you are mine and I am yours. What a miracle that is, and what a joy it is to celebrate your life and who you are to me, to Daddy, to our family.

Happy ninth Birthday to my growing man-child. I love you so very, very much.

 

Aubrey's heart

It dawned on me last night as I was conversing with some friends that I've never actually shared the details of Aubrey's heart abnormalities on here. It isn't that I don't like to talk about it-- on the contrary, every time I go through the defects she was born with, it reminds me of just how amazing it is that she is healthy and thriving-- but more that I've just never thought to. Well, here we go!

Within about a week or so of Aubrey's birth, we knew about 4 of the defects she has. It wasn't until she was almost 18 months old that we confirmed a suspected 5th defect via TEE. That was when one of Aubrey's cardiologists took the time to draw this very helpful [to us, anyway] picture contrasting a "normal" heart (on the left) with Aubrey's heart (on the right). It is, obviously, a somewhat crude drawing, but when I consider the handwriting of most doctors, I find it actually quite impressive that it's so clear and relatively easy to follow!

 click on the image to get a bigger view
 

I don't begin to fully understand all the defects, how they work together (because in some ways, certain problems actually are what allow her heart to work in its current state), or what the full implications are. I do know that Dr. Smith told us that day that if we were to walk up to most any resident physician in any hospital and begin telling them the laundry list of problems that Aubrey has, we would probably lose them at Defect #3 or so.

That's all I need to know to hug that girl a little closer, give thanks a little longer, and pray a little harder.

For those of you who know the jargon (or for those who would like to use Aubrey's heart as an interesting study in their homeschool *ahem, Lisa*!), here's the medical breakdown of Aubrey's heart abnormalities:

1. Atrial situs inversus
In other words: Aubrey's right atrium is where her left atrium ought to be, and vice versa. This is, however, not a "clean" switch: her pulmonary veins aren't all on one side of the heart like they should be, but are divided between both sides (see Defect #5).

2. Corrected transposition
Aubrey's left ventricle (the stronger one, which Dr. Smith tried to indicate with the extra squiggles to show more "muscle"!) is more associated with the pulmonary artery, but is connected to the RIGHT atrium instead of the left atrium in Aubrey's heart. Conversely, her right ventricle is more associated with the aorta, but is connected to the LEFT atrium. This means that the stronger ventricle, which normally pumps blood to the whole body via the aorta, is over-pumping blood to Aubrey's lungs while the weaker ventricle is trying (somewhat poorly) to oxygenate her whole body (thus her continually decreasing oxygen saturation level).

3. Ventricular septal defect (hole in heart)
In Aubrey's case, the hole in her heart is actually a good thing because it allows enough mixing of her blood that her right ventricle isn't completely stuck doing all the work that the left ventricle normally would do. From what I understand, there is such a flow of blood through that hole that it won't heal on its own-- and that's a good thing, as it's actually necessary to keep everything working decently enough to sustain her body.

4. Pulmonic stenosis
Again, forgive me for explaining so crudely something very complex (I am not a medical expert, that's for sure!), but if I understand properly, this is the narrowing of the pulmonic valve due to enlarged muscle. In Aubrey's situation, this narrowing was exactly the thing that allowed us to bring her home after 3 weeks in the NICU without surgery. Because her left (strong) ventricle is pumping blood to her lungs instead of her aorta, there was over-circulation taking place until the muscle built up and slowed down the flow of blood. You may recall that her respiratory rate was too high initially after birth; it slowed down on its own as the over-circulation slowed down thanks to this "thickening" of the pulmonic valve.

5. Partial anomalous pulmonary venous return
Instead of all the blood flowing from the pulmonary veins into left atrium, some of the blood flows from a few of the pulmonary veins into the right atrium, as well. (The image is small but if you look closely you can see that in the left-hand "normal" heart, there are 4 veins entering the left atrium; in the right-hand (Aubrey's) heart, there are two veins entering the "left" atrium, as well as two veins entering the "right" atrium.) This was the last defect to be confirmed and one that adds significantly to the complexity of correcting her heart, because trying to figure out how to get all the blood coming from her pulmonary veins into one atrium without overly intervening isn't simple.

All that to say, many of these problems on their own are extremely rare and complex (namely, Defects 1, 2, and 5). Combine them and you've got one unique little girl! She is a mystery to the medical world in many ways and, due to that, there is no "standard" approach to take. This is one of the many reasons I am so thankful that she has been so healthy, giving her cardiologists lots and lots of time to consider her and what will be best for her before needing to intervene.

Recently, I interacted with a girl who was born with a far less complicated heart abnormality. She is extremely small for her age and struggles with other health problems that are common side effects of heart disease. Sometimes I forget how amazing Aubrey's health is: she has been just about in the 50th percentile for growth ever since she was 2 years old. She's never had reflux or asthmatic attacks. She is developing exactly as any "normal" four-year-old would.

The truth is, it's a miracle Aubrey's alive.

Praise Jesus!

 

Of late

We have had to take life a little lot slower of late. Between my low iron levels that make for some interesting scenarios if I push myself too hard (passing out, heart palpitations, etc)-- and pushing too hard can be as simple as trying to vacuum the entire house in one fell swoop-- and a continuous cycle of sick kids, the home fires have been burn-ing! If I leave the house for something, Daniel's here with those who aren't healthy enough to be out and about; but usually, it's me here with at least a few of the five little people running fevers, nursing sore throats, coughing and wheezing, and/or blowing their noses. The family room couch has looked like this for about a month straight, except with rotating patients:

Jack and Claire are the ones I'm home from church with this week.
 

Overall, I've got pretty good patients. It is, of course, inevitable that the sick ones don't sleep soundly through the night, though. That adds to the exhaustion, to say the least, but we're managing. Overhauling expectations has helped with that: at this point, I'm really pleased with a day that includes school, basic housework/chores, and meal prep. These are the expectations I'm not accustomed to switching to until after the baby's born, but it is what it is.

And while I tend the sick crew, Daniel keeps chipping away upstairs. Hormones haven't quite kicked into the It-Has-To-Be-Done-NOW mode yet, but they are certainly adding to my eagerness to get at least the bathroom done. Seeing it slowly take shape as Daniel puts in a few hours here and a few hours there doesn't help my impatience. We're getting really, really, really close to finish work now!

Claire loves visiting Daddy to check on the work. One of the things finished on Friday was the framing in of this linen closet. Only a homemaker can appreciate my excitement about actually having a linen closet after six years of shoving extra bedsheets, towels, and pillows wherever I could find a spot to put them!
 

Plumbing lines run for the 2 sinks, along with the electrical boxes where 3 sconces will frame the two mirrors I have yet to find (anyone have a good lead on oval wood-frame mirrors? I never thought I'd have such difficulty locating inexpensive ones!).
 

Josh and Daniel totally humored me and installed this recessed light/bathroom fan unit that was MUCH more difficult to install than a traditional fan. I'm spoiled, I know.
 

The man on a mission. For me.
He's the best.
(And, if you didn't notice, we have a tub! UPSTAIRS!!!)

 
Also of late, I am continuing to beef up my diet (no pun intended) in an effort to quickly increase my iron levels. Animal protein is most quickly absorbed, so adding lots of that has been a major change to our normal way of eating, which is typically minimal meat/poultry and more rice/beans. With the clock ticking and the countdown ever nearing on this baby's arrival, I don't have time to mess around, so along with molasses in everything I can think of (cookies, bread, oatmeal, milk, granola, and more), I've dramatically increased my animal protein intake. Yogurt, eggs, chicken, beef, and pork are becoming a part of just about every meal I eat. I can't say that I love it, but when I think about how lousy I feel now and how hard it would be to take care of a newborn with this kind of exhaustion, I get motivated to take one more bite.

Today I'm going to try my hand at cooking liver and onions for the first time. I found what reviewers say is a palate-changing recipe. I've never actually eaten liver, but I have to admit that slicing it a bit ago just about turned me into a firm vegetarian. That stuff is weird! The liver is soaking in milk now, which according to much of what I've read is essential to taking the rubber sole taste out of it.

I'm a little afraid of food that has the potential to taste like a rubber sole.

I've got bread dough rising so that even if we all hate the liver, at least we'll still have something to eat for lunch.

(Come to think of it, maybe I'll try to get a batch of molasses cookies made, too. I'm seriously concerned!)

One thing's for sure: the anemia sure doesn't seem to be slowing down the growth of this unborn baby, although perhaps some doctors would see slower growth as a good thing in my case since I tend to give birth to 3-month-olds??? Claire puts her hand on my belly several times a day for the past few weeks and says, "Belly big, Mom. Baby big."

Thanks, hon, you're really boosting my self-esteem. I mean, is it not enough that I look as pale as a ghost, I've gained more weight than I did with either of the last two pregnancies (which, by the way, reinforces my "hunch" that we've got a boy on the way), and I generally feel less than human these days? No, on top of all that, I have to be regularly told how huge I am.

By a two-year-old!

33 weeks pregnant; I'm guessing that Baby is about 5lbs.

Still, I'm just thankful that all is going well for the most part. The baby seems healthy. I'm getting regular prenatal care. I've got what seems to be a good plan for delivery, and the back-up solution of heading to Syracuse (where they are all for my VBAC'ing) if all else fails. Daniel is unendingly patient with how slow I have to take things. The kids are stepping up and doing so much to help: Gabriel and Bronwyn regularly tuck the younger ones in on the nights Daniel's not home so that all I have to do is come up, pray with each of them, kiss them good-night, and then head down to my own bed-- not mention a whole host of other things they do to help all day long.

So of late, we're taking it slow, but I'm also feeling tremendously blessed. Not everyone has a support system right in their very own home like I do. God has been so, so, SO good to me!