Talk about leaving you hanging. Jeez. Sorry about that!
Things have changed since Christmas of ‘22! For starters, I am a MOM and a published author: two roles I have dreamed many dreams about. And if I am being honest, the reality of those roles is way better than my dreams ever were. I couldn’t have even pretended that I was prepared for the joy of holding our precious boy in my arms for the first time, before he was even officially ours (let alone the moment we heard the papers had been signed). I couldn’t have dreamed about the amount of emotion I actually had receiving a box of MY books in the mail and knowing the story was finally out there for the world to read. I couldn’t have imagined the fun I would have telling people (strangers, even) the story of how God showed Himself faithful, at the very last second, to lead us to a NICU in Nebraska for what we thought was “2-3 weeks,” and how He was present for every needle poke, monitor beep, and labored breath for what was actually 8 weeks.
The full story will come in the next book, eventually, but I will sprinkle glimpses into future blog posts that pull back the curtain a bit on how God is and has worked in our lives. For starters, you must know that R is more outgoing and way more fun than my husband and I (praise the Lord for that!). Being his mom is at the same time one of the best and the most challenging things I have ever done. If you’re a parent, you understand that completely, I’m sure.
We have learned a lot along the way, and I am so glad. When you become a parent, you no longer make decisions that just impact you. You suddenly have another human that relies on you for literally everything. Thankfully, the Lord has given us wisdom when we’ve asked. He has answered our 3 am prayers and the ones that were almost too scary to say aloud. He has prepared our hearts to love this little boy, immensely and unconditionally, and constantly reminded us along the way how He loves us even more than that.
What we realize now, is that in many ways, God had been preparing us to be R’s parents for most of our lives. We’ve spent countless hours in waiting rooms, hospitals, and doctor’s offices, and have had to navigate the labyrinth that is the medical field while dealing with my rare diseases and brain surgery (if you’re interested in more of that story, check out Sand Dollars and Swiss Cheese: facing rare disease with an ever-faithful God). To be clear, I appreciate and respect the medical community and know that 99% of its members are there with the best intentions, but I have also learned the art of respectfully pushing back when necessary. With our past experiences and learned ability to advocate for patient needs, we were better equipped to ensure that R was getting the care he needed when he needed it. In another aspect of preparation, I fell in love with the country of Guatemala and its people while in college. Finding out on our way to Nebraska that R’s birth mom was born in Guatemala was such an unbelievable surprise and certainly felt like the Lord saying, “Hey guys, I see you.”
On this side of the storm, we continue to praise the Lord for what we have seen in the last year and a half. R has beat all of the odds that were stacked against him and continues to impress every doctor who lays eyes on him. We are overwhelmed by his progress and pray that it continues as he grows and develops. Again, not the full story, but just a truncated list of some of those “odds”: his birth mom didn’t know she was pregnant and because of that, he was exposed to alcohol in the womb, he is missing part of his brain, he had surgery on his diaphragm at 4 weeks old and had to relearn how to breathe and eat, and he had a feeding tube for the first 7 months of his life. If you saw him today, I am not sure you would be able to guess (or even believe) that any of that was true.
All that to say, be encouraged wherever you are in relation to the storm, because God is there in both the rain and the rainbows. His promises are true whether it’s a white-out blizzard and you can’t see your next step or a beautiful sunny day and you’re ready for whatever comes next. He knows the beginning from the end and He has already been where you will be tomorrow. Trust that “…in all things He is working for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28 NIV).
Until next time (and not 2.5 years from now), keep praising Him in the storm (and out of it, too!).