The Good Doctor
It's Tuesday. That means we had another Doctor's appointment.
The waiting room was full this morning. Typically I'm one of two people there this early and we get in relatively quickly, but for some reason today was a longer wait. I also brought a good friend with me as Jeff has his first day of orientation for graduate school today. All around it was different.
In the shower yesterday morning I had an odd moment of clarity. Over the past week my thoughts have all been somewhat jumbled and difficult to articulate regarding my last appointment and upcoming decisions. Yesterday it all sort of came together in a moment of crystal clear thought. I knew as soon as it passed I now had the words I needed should the question arise again during today's appointment. And it did.
The doctor came in to the appointment room and went straight for checking the baby's heartbeat. There was a light-hearted moment as the heart beat monitor caught Lydia's heartbeat and it sounded muffled. I asked the doctor if it sounded that way because of the fluid around her heart. He smiled a sweet smile and said it sounded to him like someone had dropped the monitor. We chuckled. I'm not sure why it was funny. But it was nice to start the whole visit off laughing.
He mentioned again that he wanted us to make a decision about the upcoming weeks of viability. And somehow I did it. Somehow I mustered the courage to say the words I was given yesterday morning.
"I know you say that this child is no different than the rest of my children and default to what I would do if it were any of the rest of them, but this is not any of the rest of my children. It is this child, the one who God prepared me in advance that I might lose and took away my fears about it's life and death. God promised me He would fulfill this child's purposes and my purposes in carrying it. I'm not sure what I will want to do if we find ourselves in a situation in which I'm here at the office when the child's heart rate seems to be slipping. But I know that I cannot say today that I'm prepared to commit to the trauma of a c-section for me or the baby in addition to the grief of burying her. I know that God has promised each day to give me strength, and I know that I don't have the strength today to make a decision about something that might not even happen in a few weeks."
Based on the advice of a sweet friend, I asked him if we could get a referral for a consult with a neonatologist who could give us some more understanding about the child's condition and what to expect if the child is born still breathing.
He heard me! He heard me and he was open. And he voluntarily committed to praying about this decision and talking to his own pastor and admitted that this was not only stretching Jeff and I and our friends, but also stretching him. He said that it's forcing him to look at things in a way he hasn't before. I promised him that I would continue to pray about it and I was open to God moving my heart still and I believe God will bring us to a place of unity about how to move forward.
As he walked me out to schedule a consult with the neonatologist, he smiled and said he'd like to pray together at our next appointment and that he'd be praying in between now and then.
I hugged him.
I feel as light as a feather. At this point, whatever decision he comes to, I know that He is not just a man of stances. I believe he will seek God. He is a man of faith who prays and searches scripture and seeks wisdom. So now I think I will pray for God to lead him and I'll pray that by our next appointment Jeff and I will feel like our doctor is now a capable leader on this journey. .I don't necessarily expect him to change his mind and completely agree with me. I'm open to the possibility that my vision for how this will end is not necessarily right either. But I expect confirmation in some way at the next appointment that our doctor will take good care of us, our child, and our hearts. I just feel so much better.