After a roller coaster week of numbing fear and surging hope our little Noah James (aka Baby K) was born on Friday the 13th at 3:18 pm. He was little but he was a fighter! Born at 26 weeks but the size of a 23-24 weeker, he came out pink, kicking and crying. We were elated and once we saw him - scared to death. He was 15 ounces and 10 inches long. And we were in love! He had his daddy's nose and hair and his momma's fighting spirit! We hoped beyond hope that he would be a miracle to the glory of God.
Going back a few days. His mom's blood pressure was dangerously high. She was being medicated with some serious drugs and was swollen to the point that IV's were difficult and blood draws (which were every 4-6 hours) were almost impossible. She had to undergo fetal tracings 3 times a day and sonograms daily. Each test (8-10 daily) resulted in hope and then fear. On Thursday night at midnight she was moved to the labor and delivery area to do a continuous monitor of Noah because the doctors didn't like what they saw on the shorter strip. She was on oxygen. She had her magnesium restarted. She was exhausted and she was terrified. Many times she looked at me and said, "I can't do this again. I can't do this again." Brandon was beside himself with fear and was totally on track with NEVER putting themselves through this pain again.
Then the doctors said Noah had to come out. They said he was better off out than in and to not get our hopes too high. We prayed. We asked you to pray. We still hoped - not in him or his gestation. Not in Baylor or neonatologists. We hoped in the God who gave us Noah to begin with. And then that little miracle came out - shocking everyone with his fighting spirit. We dard to hope.
And then Saturday morning came. He was struggling and there was nothing left to do for him. So the precious nurses in the NICU removed his tubes, swaddled him in blankets and let his mom and dad hold him and take him to their room to say their good-byes. We were all devastated. Billy and I drove to the hospital beside ourselves that we had to watch our son walk through the loss of a child. As we sat in their room that sad, sad morning Kylie's doctor came in to express her condolences. Kylie then asked, "Is there any reason we can't get pregnant again?"
Billy and I were shocked. After she was discharged from the hospital and came to our house to start her recovery, I asked her what had changed her mind. She looked at me and with tears welling in her eyes, she said, "Once I saw him, I loved him and it was all worth it."
That is agape love. A love that does not count the cost. A love that gives unselfishly. At that moment all I could think of was Jesus and the horror of the cross. When it was over, He must have looked at us and said much the same thing. He loves us. He calls us worthy of the pain, the fear and the disappointment.
It took a horrendous week and a grieving young woman who was a mom for 18 short hours to remind me that love is more powerful than any thing the enemy can throw at us. Love doesn't quit. Love doesn't fear. Love goes for it.
And we will...go for it. Life. Love. Trust. Faith. We haven't lost anything. Noah is just fine and before he gets passed all the way around the loving family that went before him, we'll be there too. Because we have a Savior who agaped us enough to make a way home for us.
So thank you for praying for Noah and for us. We are more than OK. We are stronger. More faith-filled. More in love with the One who loved us first. More confident that this is not our home. More confident that nothing is more important than love.
We love you.
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