Leaning In

So….hello. It’s me.

I’m back in this space purely because I am just so dang long winded and Instagram likes to cut me off after a certain number of letters (rude), and there’s just too much to say.

Those of you who have been following me on IG know what’s going on. For those who mostly followed my EANFE fb page, I’m sorry. I’ve been overwhelmed and stressed and something had to go from my schedule. If you need a quick catch up— check out my squares on IG.

But.

Vivian.

She had her surgery on Saturday.

We came home Monday night.

Tuesday I woke up with an excruciating pain in my left eye. I could not keep it open. And could not see.

I thought I had something stuck in there? Perfect timing for my first day trying to figure out how to care for a spica cast! I spent the entire day squinting, seeing only one eye, and in quite a bit of discomfort. I was finally able to get into my eye doctor in the late afternoon.

He brushed me off at first, saying of course it was probably nothing! But then he took a look and got very still. And ran out of the room. And then ran back. And then immediately put me on meds I have to take 5 times a day (like— it was 5pm and he insisted I must take two doses before bed).

Turns out, you can get cold sores on (in?) your eye. From stress. He says, “Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

I sat in the cushy eye exam chair and thought back on the previous 4 days and almost laughed until I cried.

Have I been under a lot of stress?

4 days earlier I saw my bright-eyed baby girl get sedated and then carried away from me, her blonde pigtails bouncing as the anesthesiologist carried her away. Not only was she about to undergo a major surgery, but she would then be in a body cast for the next 3 months. That was the moment of life before/life after. There was no going back.

I then spent 5 hours waiting for her surgery to be done while my husband, who was supposed to head home to take care of the other 4 kids that day, got struck down by DEATH aka food poisoning and went back to the hotel room to pass out cold for 24 hours while he tried to get well enough to drive home. (Side note: Vivian and I had been COVID tested as a requirement of the surgery so we knew we were still safe and symptom free and this was entirely a food related emergency. I won’t go into his symptoms deets and you are welcome.)

But now….I was worried about 1. my 2 year old getting sliced open and 2. my husband who was quite ill.

Literally the day before I had upped his life insurance policy. It just went live THE DAY BEFORE. If he were to die today….it would look BAD. Next week? Eh not so bad. But that DAY!?

So then I was worried about

1. my 2 year old getting sliced open and

2. my husband dying and

3. me getting put in prison for his untimely death as his life insurance policy with wet ink was shouting accusingly my way.

AND ALSO, my other 4 kids were at home without a place to stay that night? (Papa and Grandma ended up stepping up in a BIG way and were AWESOME.)

Oh! At the same time, I was texting the plumber who was supposed to go to the house and FINALLY hook up toilets and sinks and get the new bathrooms online (The last two months I have been a CRAZY person trying to finish this before we got home from surgery). So I was coordinating details there. (Spoiler alert: he did not end up coming. But he did nicely come lock up the house for me. So thoroughly that Aaron, after finally pulling himself up from his death bed and driving home….could not get in. LOL)

Ahhhh life.

It is fun.

So where was I?

Oh yes, Vivian.

Without a doubt, this was the most stressful part. (I figured if I got locked up for suspicious life insurance situations….jail sounded nice and quiet?)

In all seriousness. V.

They sliced her femur and rebuilt her hips socket and cast her in a beautiful, heavy HEAVY pink cast.

She woke up to pain. Real pain. The first pain she’s ever felt. And she could not move. Her babyhood was stolen from her.

This was a lot.

I was extremely overwhelmed watching her go through this. I wrote this while sitting at her bedside:

Life won't always be this way. This is a season. I am grateful for the opportunity to serve Vivian. I am overwhelmed by the complexity of this process. I am so grateful for good health and the ability to be here 100% for V. I would like to sleep.

I thought repeatedly how GRATEFUL that I was to be in good health and able to give myself 100% to what she needed during that hospital stay. She needed her mommy and she needed all of the comfort and familiarity I could give her.

I thought about what a privilege it is to serve someone so wholeheartedly. To pour yourself out for a child who needs even tears wiped away for her and then many kisses gently delivered to dry the skin still wet from those tears.

This was not an inconvenience. Or a hardship. This was such a blessing to me to be able to give myself to her.

I think that serving a sick kiddo gets such a bad rap. “It’s an inconvenience. It’s a hardship on the family. It’s pity inducing.”

No.

It’s a gift to be able to give energy to someone in need. It’s a gift to feel well enough yourself to be able to do this. It is an honor to be the life giving source to someone else. Whether it’s helping them through the first hours after surgery or discussing glamorous things like poop strategies or advocating when she just needs to rest and people need to stop poking at her ASAP. This was a huge gift to be that person for her.

Fast forward to Tuesday morning.

You know, it was so THOUGHTFUL of my eye to wait one day before exploding. (It didn’t actually explode, but it may have felt like it at one point. Carter was extremely disappointed that I did not “turn into a pirate like this other guy he knew who had an infection in his eye”.)

I gave myself 100% to Vivian at Boston Children’s. Aaron (up from the deathbed!) drove us home. We got home late.

Next morning— the eye took a turn.

But no worries. My eye doctor was right there. 36 hours on meds and all pain is gone and my vision is restored. (6 more days of the meds ahead but still. I like to see so we’re cool.)

It’s okay.

That was just a season too (inside of another season)

I’m convinced that yes, life brings hard seasons.

My philosophy is to lean in. Lean in to the hard season.

There’s something to be learned here. (Even if it’s just new, weird eye disease facts. Who knew!?)

Hard seasons grow us in uncomfortable, terrible, amazing ways.

It hurts.

Her cast is extremely heavy and it’s tricky to carry her around (and position her).

But carrying heavy things makes you strong.

I’m here for the muscles.

Both physical and emotional.

God is our refuge. He is our strength.

And he sends the hard seasons to teach us to lean in. Feel the burn.

Carry the heavy casts, sweat it out, cry the tears, and learn all the things that are there to be learned.

It is a privilege to be chosen for such a work.

I warned you that this would be longwinded. If you made it this far— thank you for listening.

Yesterday Vivian started smiling again. We are looking for moments of joy and LIVING even while we wait for cast season to be over (should be early Feb?). She is adjusting and is being so so so brave.

This morning joy looked like— a snowman cookie from Starbucks. A long walk in the midst of swirling autumn leaves during an unexpectedly warm morning.

We have just under 4 weeks before we go back to Boston and do this all again for her left side. (A— let’s skip the food poisoning bit this time though…k?)

That will be tricky on so many levels.

Prayers appreciated.

But we are leaning in. One day at a time. Grateful for every single body part that IS working well and that allows us to do what we need to do.

xo

Deanna