Calling All Mothers

There is one body and one Spirit, just as you too were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. Ephesians 4:4-6

Day of Life: 22 - Three weeks ago today . . .

We ended yesterday with Tera's low sodium count and the uncertainty of what would happen if that count didn't come up. All of this was explained when my sister, who came into town with my mom for the day, discovered an extra tube coming out of Tera's foot. The nurse came in soon after we arrived and explained that Tera's sodium count was still low at the 1:00 a.m. test. It was 121, and they like for it to stay around 130 and 140. In addition to the sodium supplement that they began putting in her milk last night, they also started an IV of sodium to try to bring it up more quickly. That was the tube in her foot. Because of the increased fluid, they also had to drop her feeds down to 12cc. This upset me most - how is she going to gain weight if she's not eating as much as she should? But I understand the theory. Increased fluids means an increased risk of it going into her lungs, which would lead to another diuretic, which would lead to decreased sodium, and the cycle repeats itself. Stinking green aliens and their multi-colored sunglasses. Just do your job!

Tera was especially fussy this morning. "Probably because she has salt being pushed into her veins" was MyGoo's humorous explanation. She squirmed in her bed a lot, even pushing herself down to the very end of her blanket so that her body hung half-on and half-off the foam mattress inside her isollette. The nurse also reported that she had turned her head three times that morning. The nurse would turn Tera's head toward the wall, and when she came back to check on her, she was facing the room. After a long lunch, we came back to the hospital where the nurse helped me get Tera out of the bed to hold. Maybe that would cheer her up.

While I held her, the "Top Dawg" of all the Neonatologists made rounds with his Resident. The nurse had taken another lab while we were at lunch, and we found out from that that Tera's sodium was coming up. It was up to 126, which didn't seem too significant to me, but it was enough for the Neonatologist. He decided to remove the IV fluids and just stick with the sodium supplement in her milk. He also increased her feeds back to 17cc and predicted that they will probably go up again tomorrow. Yay!

I also learned something interesting during Rounds today. When Tera was first admitted to UAB, they did what's called a Ballard test to determine her gestational age just in case a mother's "guess" isn't quite right. Today during Rounds, the Resident mentioned that there was some uncertainty as to her true gestational age. What? I asked her to go back and explain that part to me. In a nutshell, the Ballard typically rates babies one to two weeks older than they really are. Tera's Ballard showed that she was 29 weeks gestation. So, take the extra two weeks away, and she would really be 27 weeks. She was actually born at 26 weeks and 3 days, and the Neonatologist explained that that age is correct. She was just a very healthy 26 weeker, and that is one reason for the high score on the Ballard. I'm so proud!

MyGoo and Ann Steiner left shortly after to return home. Doc sent me this picture from my two nieces. He kept them this evening so that MyGoo and Ann Steiner didn't have to rush back from the hospital. Ceil can't wait to hold "Baby Tewa!"

I read to Tera once we were alone. Chapter 4 is entitled "Praying for Your Child to Promote God's Kingdom." This chapter won't directly affect us for a few years, I think, but the words in this section brought to mind some things that I have considered in the past. The first is that when you pray for God to give your children the opportunity to share the gospel, you have to be prepared for His answer to your prayer. It's like when you ask for patience. God doesn't just zap you with patience. Instead, He provides opportunities for you to practice patience. In this same way, He's not necessarily going to put people that need the gospel in your child's usual safe path in life. Instead, He just might send your child out of your comfort zone in answer to your prayer. I can't imagine the fits I gave my parents when I made plans to go to California and Kenya. Of course, I never made it to Kenya, but I've definitely stepped out of my own (and my parents') comfort zones in response to God's call.

Considering this same idea of being prepared for God's answer, we also must be ready for how God will prepare us. Berndt writes that "Perhaps he will cause them to experience sickness or tragedy so that they can minister with compassion where others have no capacity to understand." This is God preparing us for His purpose. I immediately remembered a thought I had many years ago. I've never had major tragedy strike my own personal life. I've had grandparents die at ripe old ages, and I've been there for friends who have had personal experiences with death and tragedy. But my own personal bouts with grief and tragedy are few.

When I was a senior in college, I spent a month working with a small group of peers in the Chaplaincy Program at Carraway Hospital in Birmingham. During the month, we each had to be on call one night. I naively decided that I would take a Friday night assignment. That way, I would have plenty of time to catch up on my sleep over the weekend. You might not be surprised to know that Friday and Saturday nights are big nights in hospital Emergency Rooms. We got our first call around 10:00 that night. A sixteen-year-old boy had taken his car out for the first time. After a seemingly innocent drag race with a buddy, the car ended up wrapped around a telephone pole. The chaplain and I made it to the ER just in time to see the boy wheeled in. "This looks bad," the Chaplain said to me, and it was. The boy died shortly after, and we watched his parents break down in the middle of the Waiting Room when the doctors came to give the news. The room later filled with sobbing 17- and 18-year-old friends who couldn't believe what had happened. Though I was not personally connected to this child, I witnessed from an uncomfortable closeness what the family went through and what they needed from me, a perfect stranger barely older than their son, pretending to be a Chaplain.

My more recent experience with grief and death came when (Big) Tera lived and lost her battle with a brain tumor. Many of you know this story, and if you don't, please read about it in a post entitled "Familiar Tera-tory" in December of 2010. Tera was a wonderful little girl, and you would really enjoy learning about her. During my time with Tera, I always had the feeling that God was using my time with her to prepare me for something else. This is not to say that my time with Tera was not precious and meaningful. I just had the sneaking suspicion that when our time together was up, it wouldn't really be up. When I finally got my first teaching job, I considered that maybe this is what Tera had prepared me for: trying to successfully teach and mentor the hundreds of children that I would encounter in my career. While I do think that was part of her lesson, I am certain now that (Big) Tera was truly preparing me for (Baby) Tera, a sick little girl who needs nothing more from me than love, attention, compassion, and advocacy. All the things (Big) Tera taught me how to give to her, I now know how to give to someone else. It makes me wonder what my parents prayed for me when I was a child. Is this what they expected?

Our prayer tonight is this: "I pray that Canon and Tera would always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks them to give the reason for the hope that they have, and cause them to speak with gentleness and respect." 1 Peter 3:15

What About Barry and Canon

Sadly, I haven't spoken with either of my boys very much today. I did get a text from Barry at 6:30 tonight to please have our friend, Brandy, let the dog out because he had forgotten about a late meeting. He also managed to make it to a friend's house to participate in some draft competition to do with the basketball tournament. I had a message from Canon earlier this afternoon. He said "Hey, Mama." Then Nonna tried to get him to talk about some chickens he saw today (I can't wait to hear that whole story). Then he said "Bye, Bye, Baby Tera" and hung up. I saved the message so that I could listen to it again as needed.

I copied these pictures from Nonna's camera a few days later: