Update about travel buddy family's son's surgery

I know that many of you have been praying for little "G" who was adopted along with Wyatt and that you were aware that he had his surgery this past week. I just received an email from his Mom and wanted to post some of it here for you to read. He had an above the knee amputation to eventually allow him to have a fully functioning prosthetic leg. Here is a few of her own words.

"The first night was very hard as once the nerve block wore off, he was in severe pain. With the pain came fear unlike any other I have seen. I looked into his eyes and saw my little boy in outrageous pain frosted with utter panic and fear. His eyes darted in terror and his body trembled with agony. He could not form words and he flailed his arms in the direction of his right femur. His oxygen saturation dropped to the 70s and he turned ashen. His nurse quickly flew out the door to retrieve some additional pain medication (the big guns) to place in Braxton’s IV. I asked Braxton if he would like for me to pray for him as I really had no idea what else I could do. Evidently the nerve blocker had worn off and our room was full of the demons of pain, fear, and uncertainty. Braxton shook his head “Yes” I prayed as Braxton tried to gain self-control. His eyes were full of angst and worry while his body was assaulted by the ugly monster called pain. As the nurse came back into the room, he worked rapidly like an experienced superhero not getting his cape caught in any of the monitors and medical equipment. Soon strong pain medication was fighting its way up through Braxton’s IV tubing and into his veins. I stroked Braxton’s cheek and whispered comforting words into his ears. He looked deep into my eyes and I could see that he was looking to me for the strength that he was battling to find. As his eyes locked with mine, I knew that as he needed courage, faith, hope, and love reflected back to him. In the dark and cold of this hospital room, I needed to trust Jesus in this moment so that Braxton could find comfort in my resolve. Though the atmosphere was chaotic and even scary, I dug deep and boldly told Braxton that everything was going to be okay. I reminded him that we could trust Jesus and that Jesus would hold him closely in his arms to get him through this difficult time. Braxton’s eyes continued to lock with mine and I could see the courage begin to seep into him. He began to settle and the crying ceased. Like a soldier confidently loading and preparing his gun for battle, Braxton grabbed his little flashlight and clicked it on. He reached for his favorite soft, comforting stuffed animal, MingMing the monkey. He clutched his blanket and confidently put his oxygen mask back on. He sat there in the dark of the night with me and with his little flashlight in his hand beaming light into the dark room, he said with resolve, “I am going to be brave.” Despite my best efforts, tears rebelled and came rushing down my face. I kissed him on the forehead and said, “Yes, buddy! Jesus is here with us and this is hard...but you can choose to be brave. You can feel frightened and you can be in pain and you can still be brave. I am so proud of you!” It was a rough night, but one that I will never forget. In the dark of the night, Braxton learned to trust Jesus to a whole new level."

Braxton is now home doing well and is recovering in a body cast. He will have stitches and cast off about 2 weeks and will have his first evaluation for a prosthetic leg. Please continue to keep them in your prayers. We are so blessed to be a part of this amazing transformation in these little guy's lives!

Counting down to surgery

We are now one week from surgery and my mind is buzzing with all the fine details of readying Wyatt, the children we'll leave with grandparents, the household and the business. On top of that, I have a fever now and my head and neck have been invaded by alien beings kind of like noisy frat boys mixed with a cattle prod type sensation. I digress, but that's kind of how things have been here lately: regular life with digressions of traveling to PA for a new piece of equipment, equipment breaking down, mice invading our house with the onset of cool weather, the possibility of a free, nice horse, trying to ward off the H1N1 virus all around us here and starting in on wrap up tax planning for the year, to name a few.

Sounds easy, but here's just the mouse digression: woke up with mouse running across my neck one morning (hello, there's mice in the house), trouble sleeping (probably because there's a mouse in the house), go downstairs to find 2 mice flitting around the living room (bright idea - lets see if the cat can catch them...baaaaaaad idea at 2 a.m. - me running first, mouse second, cat in hot pursuit), set trap and set out poison (leads to sick mouse trying to bite Mike when he's to dispose of it) and then the quiet (are they really gone or are they mutating?). What is it with VA farm houses in the fall? I know there's a neon sign on our roof that beckons vermin and reptiles to "come, dine, live out your retirement years in our dry, warm basement with shuffle board and Bingo night every Wed."

I decided to experiment with giving God all the fine details of my life this week. I still make lists, but I don't hypervigilate (isn't that a fun word I just made up) to make sure I don't forget anything. I give God my day, ask Him to guide me and have decided if I forget something its forgivable. Letting go of perfection and going for the process of living. Basically I'm experimenting with actually trusting God with the minute to minute stuff instead of taking it all on myself in my typical bootstrappy kind of way. I'll let you know how it works out. This past week threw a lot of curves and I'm less stressed about them all than I used to be but still more stressed than I want to be.

My prayer for Wyatt and all of us is that we will be healthy going into and out of this surgery and may God bless the operative hands and minds! I am hoping for smooth sailing all the way through surgery, 2 weeks of a liquid diet and 3 weeks of "quiet activity". Knowing Wyatt (the sidekick) and our dear little Abbie (the instigator of all mischief), I'm betting this will be an interesting ride though. Padlock the fridge and move everything up 3 shelves? Put lead in their shoes to make jumping difficult? Eureka! Sand is soft and Floridians are into smoothies so doesn't this call for a beach vacation/recovery time? Excuse me. "Hey Mike, I've got a great idea!"

Fall 09 so far

Photos taken by a talented friend!

When did that happen?

As time goes on and we continue on with the business of everyday life, "new" begs to be noticed in the little occurrences. Abbie was overheard playing with Wyatt last week and instead of calling him by name, she kept calling him "brother" over and over, every chance she had like she was finally laying claim to him and he belonged to her. That night as she snuggled under the covers, I asked her what she thought of her brother and she said "I like him." Perhaps that doesn't sound so profound, but it does to an adoptive mother attempting to smoothly integrate a family of unique, strong personalities who've overcome great odds so far in their short lives.

Old habits of relating are being broken. Instead of starting in angst and continuing on into bigger conflict, I notice hesitation, consideration and offers of amnesty. "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you" are sweet words to hear after many weeks of staking territory and determining how many resources these other little people take up in the equation of Mom, Dad, household and toys. There is the deeply felt longing for the sister they don't see often, but know is good, is theirs and that somehow the sun shines brighter when she holds them and speaks her love into their large need.

We spend a lot of time in the car, so many battles are fought and many lessons are learned there. What sweet joy to my heart to see Anna fall asleep and Wyatt protectively put his arm around her neck, cradle her head on his shoulder and relax into a sweet, peaceful smile. Love deepening. Bonds being forged in the heat of fire and the cooling breeze of forgiveness. In moments where I stop the business in my mind, the never ending "to do" lists, the exhausting "ought to" lists, and I actually am in the moment, purely focused on the nuance of interaction between the three, I see a spark of what will be in adulthood when Mike and I are heritage and they have assumed the roles we now hold. The view is filled with hope and sweet promise that they will stand the test of time together.

Wyatt on his way to the Shriners Hospital.