Inexplicable.

One of the hardest things about having a son with half a heart is trying to determine when what he's going through are "normal" baby things or if there is something more sinister laying in wait. As Dean continued to get fussier and fussier last week, Blair and I speculated. Is he teething? Is something wrong with the formula he's using? Is this GI related? Or is there something wrong with his heart?

I prayed and prayed that we would be spared a trip to DC. Which is why I had him seen by our local pediatrician last Thursday. So far we've had wonderful caretakers who all tell me the same thing "You were right to bring him in." She looked him over, we changed a few things, did our chest and ab xray and we were sent home. Our smily happy boy was cranky and miserable.

So fast forward to Saturday night. Blair is at Drill and I'm home with my babies. I wouldn't ever have said I was an "anxious" person, but I guess the term fits me as of right now. As the day wore on I just felt more and more out of control of my feelings. Around 7 when we do his shot I had a full blown panic attack. I couldn't breathe, couldn't grab hold of my thoughts, couldn't calm down. I texted a friend. I started to calm down. Told her not to come. Started to feel out of control again and had trouble breathing again. She was smart enough to come down to my house anyways. She rubbed my feet and reminded me that to breathe, you have to suck in air and let it out.

I couldn't even begin to tell you how incredibly scary that was. I felt light headed. I felt overwhelmed. I was sitting on my couch hyper ventilating while holding our son who was just looking at me. Ellie kept coming to me and saying "Mama crying. Mama crying." I kept telling her I was ok, she would pet my arm. Finally Blair came home, we got our littles settled in bed and crawled into bed ourselves. I had a difficult time trying to explain to Blair was exactly happened and what had triggered this. I wasn't sure myself.

Fast forward to two AM. Dean is on a continuous slow feed during the night. He'd been waking up more and more during the night and taking longer to calm him down. Blair got up to take care of him, and out of nowhere Dean started to vomit. Vomiting on his continuous feed is not a good sign. We decided then that we would call DC and explain what was going on to a cardiologist there. They didn't think it was urgent enough that we needed to come right then, but did encourage us to take him to INOVA to be seen there.

After the phone call I sat in bed and couldn't slow my thoughts down again. I felt my hands start to shake and my breathing start to get harder and harder. Blair told me to lay down and I couldn't, I felt trapped. I started to suck on something called a rescue remedy, something my wonderful friend had left for me. You know when you go the ocean and the waves are choppy and they knock you down, one after another? I'm not talking the super fun waves, the scary ones, the ones that make you think maybe you shouldn't have gone to the Beach that day? That's what it felt like. Blair laid me down, and curled into me and talked to me while I struggled to breathe. It took me a while, but I was able to calm myself and sleep.

That morning I just had this sense of urgency about taking our boy to the ER. I kept telling my dad, something is not right. My daddy got my girl (Blair had left earlier for drill) and I took off to INOVA. On the way there I prayed and I repeated "God is in control, God is in control. You don't have to be in control, you have no control, God is in control. You have done everything you can do for your son with the knowledge that has been given to you, God is in control. Trust Him. Chill." I repeated that like a prayer, a plea, every time I felt the panic start to rise.

Once we got to the ER things moved and escalated quickly. We went through the wrong doors (and Praise God we did!) and ended up at the ER nurses station. I looked down at my son and his mouth, nose, and hands and feet were blue. From there things moved quickly. His oxygen levels were at 55 (crazy scary low)(bad), he was dehydrated, and after an xray there was fluid on his right lung. A transfer to Children's was necessary.

I held him while they placed an IV. I held him while they drew blood. I held him as they did their xray.

When they came in and told me he was being air lifted my heart jumped to my throat and I thought "Ok Lord. You got this" and then I thought "I need to call Blair."

He was transported, Blair had left Manassass to meet him there in DC, and I followed behind in my car. I wasn't allowed to ride in the helicopter because of the extreme heat that day. We got to Children's, he was on high flow oxygen, another IV was placed, we were admitted to the CICU and from there a plan of action was formed. They placed a chest tube to drain his lung, intubated and extubated him on the same night. And now we are waiting for the reason WHY his lung would fill with so much fluid.

I wanted to write it all out. I wanted to talk about the panic attacks, I wanted people to know the prayers I prayed and the deep set urgency I felt.

Everything that has happened has been ordained and orchestrated by God. It has been scary as hell, but it has also been one of the most amazing spiritual experiences of my life.

I wasn't the only one experiencing this though. Blair had a dream that woke him right when he needed to be awake to take care of our son. Later as he told me of his dream my eyes would get wide and I would think "Wow Lord, you knew he needed to be awake to take care of not only our son, but me as I panicked. Wow." His dream is his story to tell, so I won't go into details. All I will say is that Saturday night, our house felt like a war zone. And I felt like I was loosing a pretty big battle. I felt attacked. Panic attacks are real things, but they don't often happen to me. Here I was with two in one night? What? And Blair woke up when I didn't to catch our son throwing up? What?

The urgency I felt Sunday morning...I knew we needed to go. I knew something was wrong. I knew he needed to be seen and soon.

Look its not ideal that we're here right now, but Praise God that we are. Praise God that He cleverly devised a plan. Praise God that he strengthened and prepared Blair's heart. Praise God that He protected me from what felt like attacks from something I can't explain. And I can't. I can you tell you what it felt like, but I don't think I could ever explain what happened.

We are once again, waiting. We are once again praying for answers. We are once again watching our son suffer, and Oh thank you Lord for that suffering.

The past month or so God has been doing some big works in Blair and I. Reminding us of the truth, that we are told that we are to suffer, that this life wouldn't be fair. But that He wouldn't leave us and that we would need Him desperately. If God had not begun the work he was doing in our lives...I'm not sure what would have happened that night. I'm not sure where we would be.

And I needed to write this all out. I need to remember. I need to be able to tell Ellie and Dean one day what God has done for our family. I don't want to forget...it's so easy to.

My precious baby boy...that kid has no idea the way he is fought for. He has no idea the stories that surround him, the people who love him, the church that stopped service to pray over him...

I wish I could write it better, explain it more...but I can't. Isn't that so cool?

God is too big even for words.
He is Inexplicable.