Promise

So my post of tips for the hospital were (hopefully) practical. I do plan on adding another post like this in the future.

But something I feel the need to testify about, is the most important thing I learned when my babies were in the hospital. God was right there, even though many, many times I never asked. You know that really good friend, who just knows to call you when you need her the most? You know those times that your spouse can tell you've had a really bad day just by looking at you? You know those times that your mom knows the perfect way to make you feel better? That's God, when it counts the most.

My confession is that I'm bad at praying. I pray all the time, except when I'm supposed to. I don't pray before meals, even though I feel guilty for it. I don't pray when I need God the most, because I forget and I am self-absorbed and I think I can do it all alone. How lucky for me, that I have the best Friend, the best Spouse, the best Parent...Who loves me anyway, Who shows up anyway. 'Tis Grace hath brought me safe thus far And Grace will lead me home.

When we were in the hospital with Sophia the first time, when she was fifteen months old, she had a lot of scary complications. There were moments that, looking back, I am amazed to realize I made it through. I was pregnant with Amelia at the time, and I had taken the bar exam just four days prior to Sophia's surgery. I was completely sleep deprived and emotionally spent.

But the worse things got during those two weeks, the stronger I became. God's grace filled me, the Holy Spirit sustained me. I don't think I remembered to utter an actual prayer more than once or twice during this time. But God was there. He knew I needed Him. He knew how to give me the strength I needed. He knew how to comfort me.

When Sophia was in pain to the point of being unrecognizable, when she was tranfered to the ICU, when she was getting blood transfusion in the middle of the night, when she cried out to me and I could do nothing to ease her pain, when she was taken back to the OR, when it seemed like we might never be discharged, I was okay. I was more than okay, I was able to be there for her, to be strong for her, to be her advocate when her nurse refused to follow the orders in the chart and give her pain medicine. I was able to comfort Sophia by knowing how to make her feel better, to breastfeed her even though I no longer wanted to, to figure out what she needed even though she couldn't tell me.

When Amelia was four days old, she stopped breathing and turned completely blue while I was holding her. I was able to bring her back, calmly. That drive to the ER when I couldn't see whether she was still breathing was terrifying, but I made it safely (our children's hospital is only a 2 minute drive from our house, so I knew it would be faster to rush her there than to wait for an ambulance). When we got there, they took my newborn and stuck her eight times to get an i.v., they put her in a plastic tube to get a chest x-ray, they poked and proded her so much that by the time they did a spinal tap she was too worn out to even cry. I was four days post-partum, I was worn out and hormonal, I was scared. But I was okay, even though for weeks she would continue to stop breathing, I found that same strength and comfort. Again, I didn't ask, but He was there.

I strive hard now not to take God for granted, and to pray more. I try to listen to Him more, and ask for Him more. But I am weak in this area still, and I have long way to go. I love Him so for knowing this, and for being there anyway. I am so thankful that I have a God Who is there for me whether I know it or not, Who loves me this much, and Who knows just how to comfort me and give me strength and wisdom.

When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.
Isaiah 43:2