When actions speak louder than words…
Whispers
It’s absolutely amazing how God has revealed himself to us these last few months. Sometimes it’s in quiet whispers as I look out the window or soak in the smell of a giggling ponytail bouncing on my lap. Other times, I swear He has been right there in the room, very loudly telling us, “I am here.”
Even in the weeks leading up to our first ultrasound, I feel God was whispering in an effort to prepare my heart, even though I had no idea what was to come. I vividly remember sitting on the couch with Jeff a few days before the ultrasound, telling him that sometimes I had a small feeling we might have a child with special needs simply because I thought Emma would be so awesome with him or her. Jeff quickly dismissed the idea—and so did I—assuming it was nothing more than “third-child paranoia” and nerves.
As I’ve mentioned before, we also decided to find out the sex of our baby this time—Jeff’s idea—and I admit I was pretending to be more excited about it than I was. It honestly didn’t matter to me. I also have never been a huge fan of saying, “As long as it’s healthy” simply because what if the baby wasn’t healthy? What if she had 9 fingers instead of 10? Did it matter? Would you not love the baby the same? I can honestly say that those words never sat right with me…especially now.
On the day of our ultrasound, Jeff and I were on the phone (he was meeting me there), and I asked him if he was excited. He said he was, and I teased him about the baby being difficult so that we wouldn’t be able to find out the sex. But then in all seriousness, I said, “We do need to remember what this ultrasound is really about. It’s not about girl or boy—although that is bonus information—it is about our baby and his or her health.” He agreed, and we hung up as I arrived at the ultrasound facility.
Now don’t get me wrong, the information we received in that ultrasound room took both of us completely by surprise. I plan to write about that experience in the future, but I can tell you I will never forget Jeff’s reaction. Watching a heart breaking before your very eyes is an image you can’t escape. The red cheeks, the confused eyes, the nervous hands…it’s like it happened yesterday. I will never forget that night — ever — even though I was in total shock. Even today, the reality of it all surprises me and catches me off guard as we go about our daily routine. Sometimes I think that is a sign of pure acceptance, while other times I wonder if it’s God giving my heart a break.
So it’s not like I had this “I already knew” moment, but as I look back, I can hear the whispers. The small preparations He made. The way He opened my heart to His possibilities, His plan—a plan that was so far removed from mine.
And while I have lots of “yelling” moments to tell you about as well (stay tuned!), I have learned to listen closely for His whispers.
Sometimes they provide what I feel might be very real information, but most of the time, they just provide a whole lot of comfort when I need it the most. Sometimes they come from a little girl who stops mid-eating to quietly pray for her sister’s “sick legs,” and other times they come from another little girl who stops mid-play to announce in her proudest (and loudest!) voice that she is going to be a big sister.
No matter the volume of His voice, I am trying to listen hard these days…and that usually means ignoring the world a little bit.
In my hallway, a framed image reads:
“Make time for the quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud.”
I am still learning to listen, to drown out the other voices, and I am far from perfect. Before this experience, I admit that I would pick and choose when I followed God’s lead. I’m sure He has tried to tell me a lot these last few years, but life is busy, and well, it’s easy to get caught up in the meaningless jibber-jabber that is all around us. I can only imagine what I’ve missed, the murmurs of Truth I’ve ignored.
But now, it is different. Everything is different. I am different.
I am listening.
“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
“You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.”
Psalm 73:24 NIV
Quick Update…All is Well
Good news at our ultrasound today! Brooklyn’s ventricles are about the same size as last time, which means the fluid in her brain is stable and not rapidly increasing. Praise God!
Of course, we would like all that fluid to simply disappear, but one step at a time. For now, we are rejoicing in what was actually a pretty uneventful appointment. Jeff was able to meet me there this time, so I feel kinda bad that we were in and out of the ultrasound pretty quickly. No sneak peeks at her cute little nose or even those kicking feet. But we both realize we can’t expect every single appointment to be some momentous occasion, and honestly, it was kinda nice that it wasn’t. Hearing a simple “all is well” is more than okay with us these days.
Miss Brooklyn is weighing in at a petite 3 lbs, 1 oz, which puts her at about the 23 percentile and definitely within normal growth rates. (A very good thing!) However, because she is a little bit on the smaller side, our OB is being cautious and would like to make sure she is getting enough oxygen, which means he wants me to start having weekly (yes, WEEKLY) NST tests…ugh!…on top of seeing me for regular appointments every 2 weeks…ugh!….and an ultrasound every 3 weeks…grumble, grumble, grumble…
Now, I don’t mean to be whiny preggo, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that this makes me a tad frustrated. These appointments literally take half a day. Today, for example, was 5 hours from the time I left my house until the time I picked up my little ladies. Five hours! Last time was 6 hours. That’s a long time for my wonderful babysitters (love you, sisters!) and kinda exhausting for this mama. BUT, it is part of the deal, Brooklyn is totally worth it, and, well, we gotsta get used to it. So suck it up I will.
Our OB is willing to let me do some of the NST tests at Palos, so I don’t have to go out there EVERY time, which I suppose is a little better. Right?!?!???? Yes, yes it is (…as I inhale five more peanut butter M&Ms…)
Anywho… she is still in position for a normal delivery (which they are really encouraging us to do), and she is really moving a lot — hands and feet! Jeff gets to feel her move all of the time, and both girls love talking to my belly and making her kick. (I swear she knows their voices!) I know how much joy it brings to my heart every time I feel her move, and it is so awesome that they get to enjoy that now too. We get to rejoice as a family, and it only makes us that much more excited to meet her.
So, my friends, that is the scoop. As always, thank you for your prayers. You are all taking a part in our baby’s life and our family’s journey, and we are eternally grateful for the work your prayers have done. Next ultrasound in 3 weeks…let’s hope it’s just as uneventful! 🙂
Dandelions & Tulips
Saturdays are my favorite day of the week, especially in the spring and the summer, when the weather gets warm. Jeff is (usually) home and takes the girls outside to work with him so I can have a little “me” time, which usually involves toilet scrubbing and laundry. But nonetheless, I get a little break.
However, it isn’t long before I hear a tap at the door or several urgent doorbell ringings. As I open the door, I am greeted by two little girls with hands full of dandelions and faces full of smiles. “Here, Mommy, for you.”
I love that. And I don’t think it will ever get old. Ever.
A few weeks ago, we had a Saturday that followed that exact series of events. As I relished the moment, I filled a plastic cup with water, gently placed my gifts inside, set it on the kitchen counter, and happily went back to cleaning the bathroom.
A quick water break led me back to the kitchen, where I noticed that the plastic dandelion cup was actually sitting next to a glass vase full of purple tulips Emma and I bought a few days before in honor of Brooklyn. We both agreed she would like them, so we “splurged.”
As I saw the contrast of those two vases, my human nature took over and I started to go there…
Brooklyn will probably never be able to run around the yard on a Saturday morning with her sisters.
She will have to watch them from afar.
And she will never bring me bouquets of dandelions…at least not without a lot of physical effort.
When these types of moments come, I have learned to literally look Up. And just like every time I choose to that, God revealed something amazing to me. This time, He drew my eyes back to the tulips. The beautiful, beautiful tulips.
How in the world did I miss their beauty?
And then He fixed my eyes on both flowers:
The dandelions…bright like the sun, full of life, carefree, and a bit wild.
The tulips…purple like Royalty, peaceful, carefully constructed, and a bit more fragile.
Both created by God. Both beautiful in their own way. Both perfect in His image.
My mind was then drawn to a short essay someone sent my Mom days after we found out about Brooklyn:
WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley
c1987
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this……
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”
“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things … about Holland.
Interestingly enough, going to Italy has always been a dream of mine, and Jeff and I were fortunate enough to literally go there a few years ago. It lived up to every expectation I had, and we absolutely loved it there.
But I know we will love “Holland” as well, and I’m pretty sure it will surpass all of our expectations.
After all, I hear they have lots and lots of tulips there.
