A bloggers therapy

So many times I wonder why I still continue the blog. But to be honest, its therapeutic. Its a way to witness but yet be real about the life I live. Its a safe place to hash out my fears, dreams, and acknowledge Elizabeth's accomplishments.

Often I feel like I am a broken record but I made a promise a long time ago that I would "blog", scream, talk, cry, or sing Elizabeth's story at every opportunity I have. In the last week I have faced a wave of emotions. As some may know tomorrow marks the two years that Elizabeth was life lighted to Birmingham Children s Hospital. My beautiful pink, strong-willed, opinionated daughter was quickly changed to a pale, unresponsive, lethargic baby. Our world would soon begin to do a complete 360. And oh boy did it!

On November 31st (Saturday) at 11:30 PM Elizabeth was carried by Jet to Birmingham. We were told to kiss our daughter goodbye because it might be the last time. We had never seen our daughter on a ventilator. We were completely in awe. As scary as Elizabeth's birth was it in no way was ever life or death. She just a very sick baby, up until that point we had never faced the conversation of death. We kissed our daughter goodbye. I don't remember much, just that Jacob literally carried me out of the NICU.

I am not sure I remember much of the trip. I remember it being quiet and my unhushed tears being the only noise made. I remember holding a while fleece blanket with pink and purple polka dots that she had just slept on. I remember her belongings were packed in a few hospital bags. I remember stopping at a gas station along the way to Birmingham and looking at myself in the bathroom mirror.I remember the nurse calling for my permission for blood transfusions. I remember the DR telling me my daughter was "very sick." She repeated it several times. I remember her telling me her Blood Pressure was dangerously low. I remember the panic that set in once we saw the hospital and the sheer frustration of managing the parking garage. We all but ran down the adjoining walk way to the front desk. The desk was of course expecting us. It was 3 AM who else would be coming in at that time of the night. We couldn't wash our hands fast enough. We were escorted into a room where a baby laid on a warmer. She was small like our Elizabeth no doubt. But OUR Elizabeth was pink and moving when we left. This baby was pale enough to see every tiny vain in her little body. She laid completely unaware of her surrounding. I was greeted by more nurses and Doctors than any one tiny baby should have. We met almost any specialist you can think of from surgical to metabolic to Respiratory. We slept in Elizabeth's room that night. Or what sleep you can imagine we got. Her heart slowed and Blood pressure would bottom out every few minutes. Our nerves were shot. Our heart was broken. We prayed like I never knew we were capable of. Jacob and I knew if God didn't show up and show out fast our little girl wouldn't pull through.

For several days it was a blur. We had more phone calls, text, Facebook messages, and voice mail's than we thought humanly possible. Word traveled fast. Prayers traveled even faster. By lunch time on Dec 1st (Sunday) her levels were drastically improving. By 3AM Monday morning they were normal. Without the THOUSANDS of prayers and love our Elizabeth WOULD NOT be here.
I will never fully give the story the way that I should. I will always leave out a detail and wish I would have added it.

 Tonight we read our Christmas books, snacked, and rocked in the recliner. I was brought to tears remembering how close we were to never having these moments with Elizabeth. I realized that God continues to remind me of the miracles that I have been fortunate enough to witness. I have been blessed to live with my personal miracle. She reminds me how God has prepared our future and how he never forgets us. He is our constant friend, comfort, and hope in the greatest trials.

If you think that is a load of crap then you need to talk to Elizabeth's Neonatologist. Dr. Coghill would simply tell you your an idiot. Her pediatrician, Dr. Millette, always is amazed when he hears her progress. He constantly reminds me how he sees God working in her life. (His words not mine.) I am not here to brag about how awesome my kid is, or how lucky we are that god "chose" us. I just am saying HOW GREAT IS OUR GOD that he cared, that he loves, and he listens. God has saved my daughters life more than once, you don't think that he doesn't care about our fears and problems? If your answer is no, give me a call I could blow your mind!