Know that we appreciate all your prayers and practical help. We could not make this journey without so many walking with us in love.
It’s not a good time for my girl.
This morning Courtney began having rolling seizures while in the Peds ward. This is what we were worried about with her high ammonia levels. Because of all the stress her poor little body is under, she can’t fight a battle on multiple fronts.
When the grand-mal seizure hit six minutes, they opted to give her the Ativan to try and stop it.
About fifteen minutes later the fun began. Her blood pressure begins to drop.
115 over 90
110 over 83
103 over 63
97 over 57
92 over 51
87 over 47
83 over 46
How do I remember the numbers? They are written in red on the board at the foot of her bed. Hard to miss the distress written in red.
The room begins to fill up with medical personel. One nurse, a second nurse, a third nurse, the Intern, the Resident and finally the Attending comes in.
When the Attending shows up at 3 a.m. things are not going well. Trust me.
They whisper and speak in low tones all while they are working.
You know that tone? The one they use to make sure Mama doesn’t panic or get upset. It is a tone I am all too familiar with. I appreciate their concern, but this Mama is OK.
I smile at them. I ask calm questions. They spend the next hour working hard on Courtney pushing over 2 liters of Saline through her veins to get her numbers back up.
It was a dance we have been to before, many, many times in twenty years. If they can’t raise it with saline then the next step is vasotec drugs and that means a trip to the ICU. The doctors and nurses work hard on my girl, ever so patient and gentle with her.
I just stand at the top of her bed since it’s the only spot available to me and softly sing “Your Are My Sunshine” then “Gentle Woman” and back to “You are My Sunshine” into her ear while stroking her beautiful curls.
As the numbers keep dropping, my heart rate increases and I try very hard not to take my eyes from Courtney’s face, so pale yet so peaceful. If this is going to be her final dance, Mama is not going to miss a step.
I start to take deep breaths as her pressure continues to fall. I kiss her cheek and whisper that Mama loves her and it is OK if she wants to go get a new dance partner, the one she has been waiting for all her life.
Jesus, her Beloved.
Then once more I lay her in the arms of Our Blessed Lady and tell God she is all His.
“Let it be done according to your will.”
It’s funny. I fight so hard for this girl every day and here we were standing at the gates once more and I felt nothing but peace.
If it’s time, let let her go gently God. She deserves gently.
I am tired and I know she is too. It’s OK to think of the next steps in her care. It’s OK to prepare to say goodbye. When faced with the final outcome, it’s OK for me to let her go.
Because she is going straight into HIS waiting arms. The BEST place to be.
I close my eyes, kiss her again on the top f her head and take in her fragrance. Her hair still smells like apples from her bath this afternoon.
There is such peace. God’s will be done.
They push the saline, I wait for the numbers to rise. Not two minutes after I gave her completely over to God arms, her numbers began an achingly slow climb back up.
God said “Not yet Mama. In my time. Not yet.”
It is now 4:25 a.m.
The room is quiet once more and we are alone again. The IV is still in and now there is a second port on her other hand, placed quickly to receive meds to bring up her blood pressure if needed later.
This is a dance and baby girl needs to sit down for a song or too to get her strength back.
For now we are stable. It’s a delicate stable as her blood pressure has begun to fall slightly in the last ten minutes. I will not sleep tonight. I will wait and watch. I will pray and love her as best I can.
I will TRUST in his plan…totally and completely.
She is in HIS hands. Whatever He choses this night and all the nights after this, I will accept with open hands and heart. She is HIS and always has been.
God is good all the time.
Please keep praying for my girl. This marathon is far from over.
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