Hope

As I sat looking at stacks and piles of clothes and other necessities for Houston, I felt totally overwhelmed by it all, but I had a sense of peace. That peace was rooted in hope. In such a busy season of life, with so many unknowns, I felt a sense of hope packing for Houston. What for weeks had seemed to be this daunting task (don’t get me wrong, it still was) that I kept trying to push to the back burner, on the day before it was my time to go to Houston, I felt hopeful. To some of you, that might not be a big deal, but for me, it was monumental.

We found out about Easton’s heterotaxy and complex heart condition at 21 weeks and honestly were just unaware of how severe it all was. We knew it wasn’t good and were given a hopeful diagnosis at first, but seemed to back-peddle there as the weeks progressed. About three weeks after his diagnosis and multiple doctor appointments, I received a call from one of our doctors with some of the most gut-wrenching news that would make any parent fall to their knees. The doctor called to tell us that it was the last chance to abort the baby. A baby that we already loved, cared for, and who already had a name and a place in our hearts forever. We were in the car and I made Stephen pull over in a random parking lot as a sobbed at the lack of hope that there was from the medical community. They just couldn’t commit to saving our son and to give him a fighting chance at such a big life. I will never forget that phone call, the sound of the doctors voice as she told me what a hard and difficult life Easton had ahead of himself, and that she wasn’t sure if he would/could make it. From that night on, we knew that our only option was to continue to trust the Lord…to know that he is He is our hope, our supplier, and in Him we trust all things.

Well praise God for his sufficiency and placing people in our path who love us enough to push us to fight back for the best care for our son. And not but a week a half later, we were headed to Houston for what we thought was just a second opinion. When we left Houston, we just knew it. We knew that the physicians, doctors, nurses, sonographers, radiologist, cardiologist, surgeons at Texas Children’s were committed to providing Easton with top notch care and to do everything in their power to give our son a chance to live. A chance to live…doesn’t that inspire you to be thankful for your life and health? Doesn’t that give you hope, something to fight for. For us, we are so incredibly thankful for the people who are hopeful that their creative minds, tools, and technology can give Easton a fighting hope to live a his life.

As I was looking around at all the clothes, bags, and baby stuff that we had to shove in the back of my car and I felt hopeful. My heart couldn’t help but hurt for the moms and dads who receive the news that their sweet babes don’t have a chance for life; women who carry babies to half or full term knowing that their child is not going to survive. Those are the true heroes and warriors. Even looking around at all that crap that had to be packed up, the Lord instilled a sense of hope into my tired pregnant body and mind. A hope that I could get to bring home my son and get to embrace all the ins and outs of motherhood.

Not but a few minutes later, Stephen walked in as I filled bags to the brim and squeezed zippers shut, and asked him if we knew that THIS was the path before us (before we even got pregnant), if he would do it again. And his answer was simple and in harmony with the same thoughts I had had not but a few minutes later, “Yes, as long as Easton was given a chance. A hope at life.” It sends chills down my spine even as a type it because it’s just a reminder of how the Lord has continued to allow us to walk through this trench together as a couple and has kept us on the same page.

I recently got a sweet card from one of my students and the mom wrote me a note that sent tears down my face. What the note so beautifully said was that she knew that I had always dreamed of being a mom, even as a little girl, but never in a million years would this path been the one I was dreaming of. And she’s right—it’s not. But what it said after that was that this is the Lord’s perfect plan for my life—this is what He had for me and that I should take comfort and joy in that He is my hope, my supplier, and in Him I should look and trust in all things.

I end this blog only to say, that on Monday we met with the cardiology team at TCH and you know what, the entire team is so perplexed and intrigued by our little man and all of the unique qualities of his heart, they wait expectantly on his arrival. Even the medical students/fellows that have been working so closely on our case are excited to see what becomes of Easton’s heart and want it to happen before they graduate. To me, that gives me the ability and strength to reflect back on that night in the parking lot and the doctor on the phone who said “last chance,” and it instills in me a thankful and hopeful heart that the Lord has a greater plan and has been at work as He continues to form and grow Easton into the true masterpiece that He has designed him to be.