So much has happened friends...SO much. I have waited to blog the past couple of weeks because I didn't really know how to share the events without upsetting dear friends. As I waited, even more occurred! Originally, I was playing with a three point, alliterated sermon-style post - Prophecy, Prayer, and Praise. I know... you're impressed :). The more I rolled that around my mind, the more ridiculous it sounded. Donny and I have encountered tests of spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical natures the past couple of weeks. Through every single test, we have grown and God has proved himself faithful. Are you ready for the whole kit-n-caboodle? Here it goes.
Three weekends ago, Donny and I were blessed to host in our home one of his childhood best friends and his spouse. I was braced a little for the weekend, because this wonderful couple is expecting their first child next year. Those of you who have been following my journey from the beginning know how tough it is to be happy for another expectant couple without feeling the pain of your own empty arms. Saturday went beautifully. We had a great time doing "tourist-y" things around Birmingham. It really is fun to play tourist in your own town. Then we came home in time to watch Mississippi State stomp Auburn (ouch, War Eagle anyway). Donny was over the moon. He LOVES his bulldogs :) Sunday also seemed to be going smoothly, beautifully even. The sweet wife prayed over me tearfully, holding me up to the Lord. Praying that Donny and I be blessed with a child. It was truly touching. I teared up.
And then...isn't if funny how quickly things shift... and then, Sunday evening as we sat around in the living room chatting childhood friend began to ask about whether we believed God could heal Donny and allow us to have kids. I braced myself for the completely well-intentioned advice I knew we were about to receive. Donny answered for us, cutting his eyes over at me to assess how I was handling the turn the conversation had taken, "of course we believe that God could heal him if He wanted to." Then over the course of several minutes, this friend told us that God had revealed to him that Donny and I would have a biological child that was not the result of donor sperm and IUI. THAT I was NOT expecting to hear. I thought it would be the typical "just relax, it will happen when you least expect it" advice that makes me want to claw out eyeballs, but just gets a gracious smile and nod. I'm a steel magnolia. Every southern girl knows the smile-and-nod routine.
I could feel the blood rushing into my face, tears fought to pour from my eyes. I have never in my life felt to incredibly torn between my gut reaction and my faith. I wanted to scream at him, "How dare you! Do you have any idea the pain you have just inflicted! Don't pretend you understand! You are expecting a baby!" The other side of me was in pain too, but completely different. "Are we out of God's will? Did we spend ALL that money on sperm, IUIs, doctor consultations, and HSG for nothing? I can't say God did not tell him that!" Childhood friend turned to me and asked if I believed (at least, I think that's what he asked, the world was swimming before my eyes). I leaped out of my seat, simultaneously starting to sob. I said something to the tune of "I'm sorry, I can't listen to this" and ran out to the barn.
An obliging pile of lumber provided a seat, I pulled my knees to my chest, and sobbed. Loud, uncontrolled, gasping, heaving sobs. If the neighbor had been in her backyard she would have thought someone died. A little while Donny found me, I was still sobbing. I told him he'd have to see our guests off because I couldn't go back inside.
I struggled with the prophecy for the next couple of days. I cried a lot. I sought God. My sister came over and prayed with me. Mom prayed with me over the phone several times. Donny prayed with me. I sought advice from other believers that I trust. I was broken by the thought that I could be out of God's will. If I went ahead in November with the ultrasound monitoring and injections, was that rebelling against God's plan? I knew that the friend really, truly believed he had a word from God that had to be shared.
Monday evening was the breakthrough. I had just cried again and Donny had prayed over me. I had prayed. I sat on the couch trying to calm my breathing and get rid of the runny nose and mascara raccoon eyes when God stepped in.
"Do you really think I'm that weak?"
"Weak Lord?"
"Do you really think I'm so weak that something you do, or don't do, will mess up my plan?"
Wow! What relief! What freedom! I could feel the oppressive weight I'd been struggling under lift off my shoulders. So what did I do? I'm a girl. What do you think? CRIED! Again! But this time in gratitude to a Lord who is not cruel. Who does not play hide-and-seek with his children who are truly seeking His will. We have sought his will in every single step of this journey. He is not hiding it from us and he has not shut doors. We just have to trust and keep walking until a door closes and he opens the next route.
God gave me a week to marinate on that new learning. To praise him for his strength and wisdom and enjoy the freedom from doubt. Then the new tests came. Let's just say that teaching is not the cute profession that it is portrayed as on movies, television, and in books. The hours are long. It is exhausting in every possible way. I had a week of testing that required me to again lean heavily on the Lord. He again proved himself faithful. I was tired and looking forward to a weekend to physically, mentally, and emotionally recuperate. My wise sister told me something the Lord has been teaching her this year. If you don't have adversity, then you don't have an adversary. If you don't have an adversary (as a Christian) you are doing something wrong. You are attacked when you are being effective for God's kingdom! That's when Satan finds you to be a threat and throws his darts your way. The previous Sunday I'd taught about the Armor of God in children's church, another example of God's perfect timing. I was outfitted with the equipment I needed to extinguish those flaming darts. Then, just to see if I was paying attention, another test reared its head!
Donny got up early on Saturday, around 6:30. I was determined to sleep. I asked if he was OK. He said yes, he was just awake. So I snuggled deeper under my pile of blankets and shut my eyes. Around 7ish he turned on the TV in the living room - a bit more loudly than usual. He is very considerate when I need to sleep late, often turning the volume all the way down. I got up, stumbled in the living room and again asked if he was OK. He said he was so I asked him to turn down the volume and went back to bed. Around 8:05 I woke up to the sound of his cell phone alarm. He has alarms set at remind him to test his blood glucose level. I ignored it. It kept going off. I waited and listened. The beeping continued.
I got out of bed and came into the living room to find Donny in his recliner, staring at the ceiling, soaked in sweat, and completely unresponsive. He had a plate of almost untouched food sitting on his stomach. He'd crashed so quickly that he wasn't even eating. His pump was still connected, so I took it off then ran into the kitchen and dashed back with his tabs. Even when he's unresponsive, he'll instinctively chew the glucose tabs. I fed him five, pausing between each one, hoping they'd take effect. Then he began to seize. I was praying aloud, holding his shoulders, crying. The glucagon rescue shot was in the medicine cabinet. I snatched it off the top shelf. As I attempted to mix the liquid from the syringe with the powder in the vial, I bent the needle. In case you don't know, those vials have metal tops! I was able to straighten it back out and draw up the dose. Then came the worst part. I'd never had to give Donny a shot before. When I swabbed his thigh, the cold of the swab made him seize harder. I sobbed and apologized aloud as I pushed that long needle in. The seizures didn't ease up. I grabbed Donny's phone and dialed 911.
In what felt like forever, but was really only a couple of minutes, a team of three paramedics from the nearby fire station arrived along with three ambulance personnel. Donny continued to shake and his breathing was ragged. They quickly got an IV drip going. When they tested his blood glucose, I had come back to 67. I hadn't even tested before. Most likely a number wouldn't have even registered when I found him. Most monitors eventually stop showing a number and just say "low" or "high" if it is out of range. After a few minutes on the drip, Donny winked at me. He doesn't even remember doing it, but that was when I knew he was going to be OK. A few minutes after that, he was able to tell the clipboard paramedic his social security number. Whew. The worst was over.
The medics wanted to take Donny to the hospital in the ambulance, but since we knew exactly the cause of his seizures - extremely low blood sugar - we opted to call his endocrinologist from home. Of course, when the six medical personnel vacated my living room, I fell to bits! Even steel magnolias have a breaking point! By 11:00 you would have had no idea that anything had happened. Donny was completely back to himself. I took a little longer to recover. My sweet sister had been visiting my parents in Opelika and delivered Chuck's Barbecue from home for dinner. She is exactly right, it IS comfort food and no one else does barbecue like Mr. Chuck! His Brunswick stew is thick, warm, and PERFECT!
So, that's my past couple of weeks, trial by fire. These periods of pain, prayer, and brokenness have taught me more than I could possibly learn in the easy times that go just according to plan. My God is faithful. He does not ignore his children when they cry out in pain, fear, or frustration. He loves. He comforts, He protects. Praise the Lord! I can say, with complete confidence, that I am thankful for the past two weeks. I have seen God spare my husband's life by waking me up at exactly the right time. I have seen him mend my broken heart and strengthen me with the promise that He will not hide his will from me. I cannot mess up his plan in my weak bumbling. So I take a deep breath say, "Lord, whatever's next, I'm hanging on for dear life. Let's go! Onward and upward!."
