I'm here and prayers for one of our real-life "angels"
OK, since Annabel's mommy "outed me" (and I don't mind, seriously), I might as well update. I only learned Friday evening, at about 5:30 pm, that I needed to have surgery. I was given the option of waiting till after the holidays. Um, no thanks. Not sure what kind of holidays we would have had, waiting for the inevitable surgery! So I was able to be scheduled for Wednesday, and was safely back home yesterday, and those of you who knew to be praying for poop? Well, you may stop, now. :) Thank you.
I will learn more about what comes next after the post-op appointment which hasn't yet been scheduled. And I know, now, the secret to not gaining weight on Thanksgiving.
The biggest thing that is weighing on my mind, now, is that my very dear friend, Dr. B, is waiting for something very similar to take place soon. She is a gift God chose for me and my family long before Mallorie had been conceived. She was one of the special ANGELS in the delivery room when Mallorie made her appearance, after praying for her in the nighttime before. She is one of the most vivacious, giving, fun girls I know. When she was pregnant with her youngest, I hear she did handsprings in the office to freak out a coworker who had gasped when Dr. B had raised her arms over her head, because of an old wives' tale about choking the unborn baby that way. Years ago, when I worked on the pediatric unit floor, if I was clocking in and heard her voice, I grinned and took off to get into the nurses' station before I could miss the chance to have her start my day off laughing. I wish all of you knew her, but even if you don't, please pray for her healing, and for her to be filled with peace today and in the coming days.
She's the one who is spoken about in the sidebar to the left, ....her amazing pediatrician [who] said about examining her at birth, “I looked into her eyes, and she looked back at me and said, I’m here for the long haul, chick."
So are you and I, Dr. B. Here for the long haul. As you have said before, we have far too much work to do. We adore you. I just want you to have the peace I feel for you this evening, too.
PS, John has Mal at the ER tonight. Hurry up and get well soon! We have lots of work for you to do. We're thinking it up as we go. ;)
In October 2006, we went for an ultrasound for our fifth child, and were told that our daughter probably had a chromosomal defect. We were urged to get an amniocentesis so that genetic testing could be done, “so the doctors will know what decisions to make.” The specialist told us that he suspected Trisomy 13 or 18, and if he was correct, then no OB would do a c-section because it wouldn’t make a difference for the end outcome. Besides, no surgeon would operate on her back (she had a meningocele – spina bifida), because “Trisomy 18 and 13 are what are called lethal conditions. They are incompatible with life.”
That’s how our story with her began, but it is most certainly not the end. As her amazing pediatrician said about examining her at birth, “I looked into her eyes, and she looked back at me and said, I’m here for the long haul, chick.”