In cumberland river review, on missionaries and cannibals
We went to church today for the first time in months. We’d been quarantined, so afraid of catching a virus that we would pass to Kit, since she was coming home any day now (we believed it more so than even the doctors). Then Kit crashed and we know now that she won’t come home, not until she survives surgery and months after, when she’s recovered. So we can come back out now. I’ve not been anywhere aside from the hospital and it amazes me how many people there are. So many people! And singing altogether in church, our voices raised. It was very strange…to be out like we are a family not missing our baby, like we are complete (we look complete) and we aren’t. I didn’t cry though. I told her medical story and all about the changes, and we scooped up our children and took them home. During the community prayer, our leader described this time in our lives (they pray for Kit weekly) with Kit in the hospital like a sort of prolonged terror and yes, those are the words for it. Prolonged terror.
Our four month old baby, Kit, has lived in the hospital for more than half her short life now. Yesterday she looked great–looking around the room, talking to us in baby language, trying to hold up her head. She was alert and trying to interact! We were supposed to go home that day but the doctor had pushed it back another few days. He came in to talk to me, musing aloud over all the complexities of Kit’s case, telling us that on one hand he wants to send her home, on the other there’s just this hesitation, things being not quite right with her. I agreed that it was best to not send her home if they weren’t comfortable with her status, as disappointing as that is for us.
So I tucked her in that night, staying a little later than normal, and went home. A few hours later, I got a call from a nurse that Kit’s heart rate dropped drastically and she was back in the ICU side on the breathing tube.
If Kit had been home, there’s a good chance she would have died or suffered brain damage from the lack of oxygen while we waited for an ambulance. I am so thankful that her doctor hesitated! I’m so thankful that God said “No” when we prayed so fervently to have her home soon. As hard as it is to manage this hospital life with 5 kids, I would much rather manage that than the devastation of losing her.