Debriding

I can't even remember what my post was about the other day. In fact, I have no idea why I even post anything other than the fact that I have so much in me right now that needs to come out, I feel as if I will implode if I don't.

Last week and on into this week has been one of the hardest weeks emotionally since Elli's passing. In order to survive, I feel like we pulled up our boot straps and marched on inspite of the hurt we were feeling over missing her. When, in Human Phsyiology, we started discussing blood, cardio, and pulmonary function, it became apparent that there is still quite a bit of hurt going on inside of me.

I remember when Dr. C pulled Elli's blood, I sighed when I saw the color because I knew it was not good. I knew she wasn't going to live and yet it was hard to have it slapped in my face. Jess and I, more so Jess I feel, needed a confirmed diagnosis of her anomolies- namely due to the fact that the ultrasounds were not very clear b/c of the low amniotic fluid. From a medical/scientific standpoint, that little girl should have passed long before she ever got to see her mother or brother and sister. The time kept ticking by and my heart kept pounding. I couldn't think or speak even, I just kept thinking, "Let's hurry this up, she needs to see her mommy!". So, when I saw the blood being pulled the urgency grew more intense.

Going back to this last week, I have tried to find it in my book again and I will but for now, I'll tell you what it said without a quote. Bascially, and this is something we all know- deoxygenated blood is very dark. When I read that, it felt like hot iron had been plunged deep into my heart. No, actually, it was probably more like someone had just ripped it out and put it in a blender. Graphic as it may seem, that is what it felt like. Here I am trying to study for a test and this is being thrown in my face, by an enemy no doubt.

There were a few questions that I still had from that day. The science part of me wanted to know and the dad in me wanted to never touch the subject again. In studying for this test, I didn't really have an option. Now, given the many things that were wrong with her body, it is still a little fuzzy what some of the things actually meant but let's suffice it to say- none of it was normal.

I guess the most piercing thing to me is this- our little girl shouldn't have lived five minutes. She should not have lived past the two hours to assemble blood work, gather the sonographer, set up the link with Children's, and she should have been in excrutiating pain (given that is relative to the awareness of pain in newborns, especially premature). She was eight weeks early. Her heart should not have been able to work long enough to circulate any blood around for oxygen. The blood that was drawn was poorly oxygenated. Should shouldn't have lived for six more hours. She had a nasal canula but still!!

I guess what my heart is drawn to is the fact that the little baby who wasn't supposed to live, who had so many things wrong with her it wasn't even likely she would live a second outside the womb, the one whose body was not compatible with life, did for 8 hours, do that very thing- she lived! She had malformed and missing organs and yet when it was said and done, that little one had more heart than I have been able to muster for the last two years.

I am confident that the One who sustained her here, will do the same for us. It feels more like debriding right now and maybe it always will but I know it is being done with a purpose and I am not alone.