One year surgery anniversary

Today I've been very emotional anytime I look at or love on my daughter.  We could not have known going into surgery how difficult recovery was going to be.  Today I want to be a little more frank than I was able to be in those moments a year ago.  We knew it was complex open heart surgery.  We knew to expect complications; we were told they would most certainly occur.  The anticipation was uncomfortable and very sad/scary for us, but those days in ICU changed us forever.

Medical PTSD is something real.  My precious girl has been through more trauma and pain than anyone should have to endure.  Kyle and I experienced PTSD (we finally realized) weeks and months after Willow's surgery.  We did not even go through the pain and hardship of it ourselves.  We sat there, helpless as our child screamed any time she was awake (which was often since she fought sedation).  Her screams of course were silenced by the tube down her throat, a very disturbing sight for anyone who hasn't seen that.  It was awful for us to witness and be completely unable to soothe her.  She had been our beloved daughter finally in our arms for only one year.  Her failed extubation traumatized us all, and watching her sink into that abyss changed me.  The medical team multiplied and came to life as the lead doctor in ICU made commands of everyone that would ultimately save Willow's life.  These scary, sudden moments happened often, but this one was different.  They asked us to quickly give her a kiss before escorting us out to reintubate her.  After watching her oxygen decline rapidly, I remember trembling and thinking, "There is no time for a kiss.  Save her life, now!"  I realized, though, why they did that.  How many times was that hurried and terrifying kiss a last kiss from parent to child?  It makes my whole body shudder still.

Those feelings that grabbed my entire body, that fear of losing her, that lack of control or ability to bring comfort- it sticks with me.  This anniversary brings it back. Weeks and months after, by God's sweet mercy and grace, my daughter was once again playing and talking and loving us, we realized that if you do not take the time to process, you can come unglued at any random moment.  Our minds had to process what we had gone through, and when we didn't spend enough time or words on it, we paid for it in random, difficult moments.  Specifically, surrounding Willow's physical safely, we became anxious and jumpy.  Willow was a little clumsy because she suddenly had 100% oxygen for the first time in her life, filling her with new energy and causing her I guess to work new muscles that needed practice.  The combination of Willow's new energy and our new fear of her getting severely ill was interesting.  We had to learn through our mistakes and give each other grace upon grace.

I would go through it a million times over for my children.  Both of my heart warriors are so incredible.  We get through what we must.  Seeing a miracle take place before my eyes gave me the deepest sense of gratitude.  My heart is content with those people that I love; I lack nothing.  I do not need anything but the Holy Spirit guiding me and transforming me.  I can relate to Paul when he says he has learned the secret of being content whether he has much or little.  

I'll never let my fears prevent me from following the prodding of my Lord and Savior.  My faith could have severely lacked in those hardest moments sharing that couch with Kyle by all those constantly beeping machines connected to my child.  It did not.  Instead what I discovered is that my God sustains beyond everything and anyone else.  When it all washes away, when fear towers over me and invades my life, God is my source of strength and love.  He is my strong tower, and today and every day I thank Him for saving Willow's life through the hands and brilliant minds of her doctors and nurses.  My kids are miracles.

I cry every time we sing this at church.  I cannot help but be transported to a year ago when I didn't know if God would answer our prayers for healing...

"You give life, You are love

You bring light to the darkness

You give hope, You restore

Every heart that is broken

Great are You, Lord

It's Your breath in our lungs

So we pour out our praise

We pour out our praise

It's Your breath in our lungs

So we pour out our praise

To You only

You give life, You are love

You bring light to the darkness

You give hope, You restore

Every heart that is broken

Great are You, Lord"

Thank You, Jesus, for filling up my kids lungs with your oxygen.  I have nothing more to ask of You, God.  You are gracious to us.  Please help me to be a faithful witness of Your love.