Rejuvenation- to make fresh or new again

This week I had ZERO, yes ZERO doctor appointments, ultra sounds, blood drawn, or tests! Because of this, I declared this week and weekend to be a super one, an amazing time.  I decided that I am going to treat the rest of this pregnancy like it’s completely normal. (It was much easier to do without having my big belly prodded, needles sucking blood out of my arm, discussions with strangers in white scrubs about insurance, and hearing about the inevitable NICU stay.)

So, this past week I have done some fun things for Baby Ben (and myself)! My spirits have been up, my heart is so full of joy! We decided to tackle the nursery this weekend! After a breakfast at Waffle House.. (which let me tell you, every pregnant woman needs to have breakfast there. I begged my hubby to let me hug the cooks, and I was so elated to have all my cravings satisfied in 1 place! Ahhh-mazing! I’m pretty sure my squeals of excitement were a little over the top, even in a place like Waffle House…)

Anyway, after our delightful meal, we went to the local paint store and I carefully picked out 1 of the million colors of white for the walls of the nursery. I HAD to get rid of those dreadful green/yellow walls.  I helped tape up all of the edges, and my sweet husband painted the whole nursery! I was so thankful… But then I walked in the room and saw it. So Sunday afternoon… Back to the paint store! I decided on a light gray, and without a complaint, Ben re painted the entire room.

Ben also put the gorgeous crib together, and it looks so nice! I’m obsessed with it! I can’t wait to lay my handsome son in it!  

I am so thankful for all of the hard work my husband has done to make this room perfect for Baby Ben. Although I giggled several times at his frustration with the crib, he has pretty much attacked this nursery (and my indecisiveness) with such grace and patience.  I love you more and more each day, and I love watching you as you become a daddy! Thanks, Benji, you’re my rock!

I realized we have only about 109 days left until Baby Ben will enter the world! I had someone say to me,” Why worry about getting his room ready when he won’t need it for a few months after anyway?” Well, my friend, I believe in miracles. I want everything to be ready the moment he comes into the world, just as if he were coming home those short 48 hours later. Who knows how long he will really be in the NICU, anyhow! Don’t forget, we’re a family of miracles. Also, it really helps my anxious heart to have positive, uplifting tasks to do regarding this whole situation.

In addition, I have felt Ben move more and more each day, and this week he has been super active! Looks like he’s getting his daddy’s hyper energy! I absolutely love feeling my son kick, twist, punch, run and dance in my belly! Heidi even felt it while we were snuggling, and she was quite alarmed! I wish I could describe the feelings and emotions I get when I feel those “little” movements. Moms, I know you understand.

This past week has been so beautiful and positive. I am so thankful that my heart got to rest and relax, basking in the many blessings that we have in this pregnancy. 

As I get ready for the upcoming week- 2 appointments: 1 regular OB/GYN, 1 specialist and high risk ultrasound, I am at peace. My heart is full and happy, and I am ready to bring this positivity into my appointments. I am so looking forward to seeing my sweet boy on Tuesday! I can’t wait to see how much he has grown. Here I come, week! This momma is ready!

Thank You, Lord, for reminding me of Your blessings and Your grace. Thank You for rejuvenating my soul like only You can do. I feel fresh, I feel made new again. Thank You.

Here are a few pictures from the weekend!

Ben working hard on the crib!

(And Heidi!)

Before… scary!

Gray walls!

Heidi is pooped after all this hard work!

The Power of Prayer

"For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst." -Matthew 18:20

I sat criss-cross in a barely padded chair clinging to my husband’s arm and leaning against my new friend- and high risk ultra sound tech- Terri. I tried to listen to the words that this specialist in Atlanta was telling me via webcam in this tiny room filled with machines and screens. I hear some jumbled words about my son’s heart, and the possibility of a mental disability.

In a daze, I nodded my head up and down as she said her words, whatever they were. Tears were streaming down my face. No, I had no idea what she was saying; I just knew I was being ushered into another annoyingly small, machine and screen filled room for more testing.

I did a number of various genetics testing. When I tell you they took a lot of blood, I mean they took a. lot. of. blood. 

They explained that the spot on the heart was a soft sign for a specific mental disability, and these genetics tests would let me know in 2 weeks whether we would be dealing with that on top of his omphalocele.  No sweat, right! It’s just 2 weeks of waiting! (Please read the sarcasm there, people.)

We decided to force ourselves to cling to the Truth of Matthew 6:34, "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own." 

Now really, if you read every word of this, you can see God’s humor with this verse and our current situation. Each day has enough trouble of its own… AMEN, Lord, I get it! Anyway, we decided not to worry about the weeks to come, but to focus on the positive, and try not to borrow trouble. Easier said than done.

Ben and I kept this information to ourselves- we had just dropped the omphalocele bomb on our family, and Lord knows our families worry… So we kept this one from them until we knew definite information.

Every day I did my best not to borrow trouble, I did my best not to worry about this. But let’s be real, that’s all I thought about. All day I thought about if I was strong enough to handle both a physical and mental issue. All night, between the few minutes of restless sleep, and tormenting nightmares, the possibility of this filled every thought. I was sinking…drowning in anxiety.

I spent hours in my son’s nursery in the darkness of night praying. Praying about the results, praying for my heart to be prepared, praying for peace as God’s will was going to be done. As I was kneeling down on the floor crying out to my Jehovah Rapha, I told Him I just can’t handle this by myself. Ben and I couldn’t walk down this long, rough journey alone. He reminded me… when 2 or 3 gather together… I decided to reach out to a few of my friends and my family members, without giving details- just explaining that we had some genetics tests done- and I asked for prayers. My mom committed, of course, to pray for us every minute of the day, and she is always faithful in that. She is an incredible encouragement! I talked with my dad, and if there’s 1 person you can count on to recruit prayer warriors, that’s Mike Hamlet, my friends! I’m pretty sure he took this job on full time… Praying over this and recruiting others to do the same for my tiny, helpless, precious B.

…1 week and 5 days later...

I was in the middle of teaching social studies when I got the most amazing message on my phone. (Yep, these days with all of the doctors calling, I keep my phone with me at work.)

A nurse at my OB’s office, and extremely dear friend, Whitney, sent me a message. Whitney knows me well, and I’m sure she knew that I hadn’t slept in 12 days, hadn’t gone a day without sobbing, and that my knees had carpet burn from spending countless hours on them in my B’s nursery. “We got the results, they’re negative!!” I dropped the phone, I dropped to my knees, and all I could say was “Thank You.” That message changed my world.  

We found out that the calcium deposit on my Benjamin Michael’s heart was not related to a mental illness, and it would correct itself as he grew bigger and stronger. Thank You, Lord. Thank You, Jehovah Rapha! Your grace is so beautiful!

In those 12 days, my little B was covered in prayers. Ben and I were covered in prayers. I received countless messages, texts, emails, and even some beautiful hand written cards (which are being made into a book for my son) from supportive people, from prayer warriors.  People have been praying. Not just here in town. Not just here in South Carolina… But literally all over the country people have been praying for my Benjamin Michael. As I sit here now and think about all of the people who have been reaching out to us during this time, tears are streaming down my face. Every single message, card, phone call, and text message is a gift from God. Each one gives me enough push to get to the next hour. Knowing that you are praying encourages me to hold up my tired arms in the correct boxing position (thanks, husband for teaching me) with my trusty dusty boxing gloves on and face the day.  

He promised, y’all. He promised "For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst." Well, more than 2 or 3 gathered together... More like 2 or 3 hundred gathered together and prayed for my tiny B. And you know what? He absolutely is holding up His promise. He is here in our midst. He is daily working His phenomenal miracles in my little family of miracles. 

Our journey is far from over. But this little, tiny bit of good news was just what we needed. This was the first good news we had gotten in all the months of my pregnancy. We needed this miracle. Please keep praying, friends. We have a long way to go, but as I have said before, and as He has shown to be true, there's power in prayer. It is so evident in my life, it's undeniable. There is great, tremendous power in prayer.

Thank you for your support, thank you for your prayers.

Thank you for your grace, Lord.

-Allison

His profile with his hands together at his chin. Maybe he already knows about the power of prayer! :)

Our first steps down this road...

We sat in the dusty, under construction, waiting area of Summerville Medical Center. A mound of paperwork for me to fill out, some unimportant tennis match on a distant TV, and a few people sitting, staring, waiting. We did the same. We sat and waited.  I filled out the enormous amount of paperwork, including writing and signing my name 23 times.

I did what I was supposed to... Sit, paperwork, hide my borderline panic attack, sit, wait, fight tears, sign my name, write the date, sit, wait.  They called my name and fitted a hospital band on my wrist. 

"Does that fit?"

"Yes."

"Is that your name?"

"Yes."

"Initial here, sign here."

"Okay."

I realized this was just the first of these thin, itchy, annoying little paper bracelets that are to come in my near future.

We were quietly ushered down the halls of migraine-inducing bright fluorescent lights to a small, dark room filled with machines.

"Allison?"

"Yes."

(Bracelet checked, like someone would lie about who they are right now?)

"Sit here."

"Okay."

I'm pretty sure those were the only 2 words my exhausted brain could come up with... "yes" and "okay." I sat down, exposed my swollen, pregnant belly, and waited to be pushed on with the big ultrasound wand thingy. This was the first time I dreaded that thing.

Thankfully, the ultrasound technician, Teri, was phenomenal. She was kind-hearted, sweet, and slightly apologetic.

Before she began I took a deep breath, preparing myself to see this "birth defect" in detail with this high tech, HD ultrasound camera. Suddenly I felt 2 things: A gentle hand on my shoulder, clearly my Lord calming me. And 2 other hands, 1 on each ankle, my precious husband supporting me, comforting me.  I wish he could be closer, but there were too many machines and screens.

As the screen revealed my son's prominent "defects" 1 name continuously sounded in my head, in my heart: Jehovah Rapha.

I couldn't pray words at that time, I don't think I could form a sentence.  But I could cry out inside over and over: Jehovah Rapha, Jehovah Rapha, Jehovah Rapha.  I didn't need to say more... There is power in the name of Jesus, you see.

"This is the omphalocele, you can see his liver and bowels."

"Jehovah Rapha."

"His stomach is also trying to push out."

"Jehovah Rapha."

"Awe, look at his sweet profile. He's cute!"

"Jehovah Rapha."

"He has long legs and arms like his daddy."

"Jehovah Rapha."

Pictures were printed, only the ones I'd actually want to see later, of course.  My belly was once again covered, and I could finally get my hands in their rightful place: holding my swollen belly to get as close to my son as possible.  We listened to the specialist, Dr. Patterson, via web cam, give us more details.

"He will need to get bigger."

"Jehovah Rapha."

"He will be inthe NICU for a couple of months at least."

"Jehovah Rapha."

"Since there is a birth defect, you can legally terminate the pregnancy up to 24 weeks in this state."

-- BOOM, walls shattered, ground broken, a ton of bricks just hit me square on top of the head. -- I could form a sentence.

Ben and I immediately locked eyes.  A small chuckle of disbelief escaped my husband's beautiful lips.

"Ma'am," I said, "I escaped abortion. My husband survived cancer. My son will survive this."

We are a family of miracles, you see.  We have Jehovah Rapha on our side.

Things began to click, God was slowly unraveling this part of His plan.  We are in this situation for a very specific reason.  Our story was written containing more than just one miracle, more than even two miracles.  There couldn't be a more perfect couple in the universe to have this child.  God gave me a chance, God gave my Benji a chance, and we will give my son a chance.  God gave him to us because we can handle it.  We are a family of miracles.  Only by the grace of God, our Jehovah Rapha, are we here.  And we are here for our miracle son.

Somehow, as we walked out of the frigid medical center in to the humid, misty parking lot, I was encouraged.  I was encouraged because I knew without a shadow of doubt, that this is a part of our story for a reason.  We can handle this.  Will there be dark days? Yes, of course. Will I weep for hours on end? Of course.  Will we be drained physically, emotionally, financially, and mentally?  You bet. But Jehovah Rapha is on our side.  I was born for this.  My Ben was made for this.  He provides me with His strength.  We will get out our boxing gloves, dust them off again, and we will fight.  My perfectly imperfect son will fight. And with our Savior on our side we will be unstoppable.

Join us on our journey..

Welcome, Friends!  

On the pages of this blog you will see the journey that I am on.  It will be a long road, but I am convinced that this is my story for a reason. Ben and I found out that our sweet unborn son, Benjamin Michael has an omphalocele.  

This is a rare birth defect (1 in every 5-7 thousand) in which the bowel, liver, and other abdominal organs protrude out of the abdomen. (Some of his “insides” are on the outside.)  In our case, Baby Ben’s bowel and liver are currently protruding, and part of his stomach is also trying to push its way out. This was not caused by anything that was or was not done on anyone’s part (yes, mommies, that was my first question.)  Our doctors told us that his omphalocele was there from the beginning, before we even knew the joyous news that we were pregnant.
My precious son will be born perfectly imperfect.

These posts will follow our journey on this road, I pray you will be encouraged, as well as find my Baby Ben in your prayers.