Friday, June 21, 2013

Sat check

I woke up really early on Wednesday. Early even for me, an earlybird. I tried to go back to sleep but after several futile minutes, decided to just start my run earlier than I planned. I went fast and hard and with each footfall, peace was shouldering out the high levels of anxiety I had woken with.

Luke's cardiology appointments always do this to me. How can a single machine that clips on a finger cause a person so much turmoil? Wednesday's appointment was a simple sat check, but of course that machine produces a number and that number can determine how Luke's heart is handling his "unique" circulation.

At the end of my run I texted a response to my friend who had asked how I was feeling, "This is what I know this morning: I trust God." I knew that whatever that number showed a couple hours later, I would need to hold tightly to that peace I felt post-run.

Luke's sats were 82-83% in the office Wednesday morning. I won't lie, I was hoping for a little higher, but I also have two days of perspective under my belt, so can see that the difference between an 83% and an 85% is very small in the scheme of things. It doesn't change the course of action, which continues to be the "watch and wait" approach.

Two days later, I also feel a little ashamed of myself. I have a SIX AND A HALF YEAR OLD who just soared through kindergarten and I was choosing to focus on a number I didn't like. I have a miracle boy who other doctors are watching because he is so much older than the typical single ventricle child to have yet had the Fontan. His left ventricle is super strong. He reads voraciously. He wrestles with his sister. And GOD KNOWS BETTER THAN ME when it's time for the Fontan.

We will check back in with Dr. Kim in September, for a full work-up, and most likely schedule a catheterization for the spring, to get an even closer look at this heart God created.

Thank you to those who follow our story, who pray for us and love our boy. He is one fantastic kid.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Hula-dancing graduate

Luke is only a kindergartner for 7 more days. As of June 18, he will officially be a first-grader, going to school full day.

If only he weren't such a sad kindergartener...

Don't get me wrong, he has had his share of tears this year, and his share of worries, especially at morning drop off. Watching him today, I cried my own tears. Tears of pride and gratitude at how far he's come ... not just this school year, but in his six short years. From a tiny baby who's heart could not sustain life to this vibrant, flourishing, graduating six-year-old.

My husband came to the graduation program this morning and texted me this afterward:

"I really love you! Sometimes the emotions are so huge I just can't breathe. What a miracle we have!"

Perfectly said. And exactly what I was feeling as I watched him hula and sing and be goofy with his friends.

Your faithfulness, O Lord, overwhelms me today. You have carried Luke thus far, loving him even more than we do, and we trust that You will carry him today on.

You wear your name well, Luke. You are a bringer of light into our lives.

You will rock first grade.

We love you.