Three weeks to go...

     So, as I thought through my day and thought about what to post and what to say and how to say it, I was struck first of all that today means that in three weeks, we hopefully, D.V. will meet our second daughter, Ava Grace, on October 10.  It's a bit hard to fathom - I've slowly been washing clothes (she might not even need preemie clothes at this point), packing hospital bags, trying to remember how to breathe during labour and organizing child care and help for when our dear little one is born.  It's so hard to plan, despite having a date, because we don't know how her health will be, will she feed on her own, will delivery go smoothly?  I know that no one knows any of those things and that we never take anything for granted either.  We might have arranged a date, but God is the true author and director of the calendar so we need to trust in His timing and care.  It's sometimes hard not to think too far in the future and yet sometimes three weeks away is kinda terrifying!   It's been "easy" having Ava comfortably tucked inside, not needing to be fed every three hours or remembering how to bathe a newborn or keep her happy.  People tell me that it all comes back but somehow... somehow... with Martha it was all a bit of a blur.  I know we'll have lots of help... volunteers are lining up for cuddle time - but somehow even that is hard - shouldn't we be responsible for our own child?  Shouldn't we be the ones getting up in the middle of the night with her?  Shouldn't we be able to do it?  And the answers come again and again, you are part of a community for a reason, you are not on your own, you don't have to be a hero and do this all alone - and once again, we give thanks for all the love that surrounds us, for meals, for cleaning, for help, for rides, for encouragements.  I know, I know, I say it all the time but we are truly blessed!  
      And I need to remember that on days when it all looks black, when I can't lift my head off the pillow, on days when the sorrows just seep out of my soul and I worry so much that I hyperventilate and fear the futures and the unknowns and the what ifs.  When I dread tomorrow's appointment...when we will get the results of the liver ultrasound that I had yesterday morning.  And like my dear counselor said when I talked with her - it's like there's been a case of PTSD.  Now, that seems overly familiar to call what's happened by those terms like I was a Iraqi war veteran but she truly explained that this has been likely the biggest trauma that has played out in my life and it's quite common that people feel this overwhelming sense of being in a war zone.  And I suppose in a sense we are.... fighting the biggest battle of our lives against one of the dreaded stealthy enemies that likes to creep in and upset lives.  And so, it's all come back to me - that first ultrasound at St Joe's all these months ago.. lying there on the table, wondering over and over again why the technologist was taking so long for a routine ultrasound, trying to keep Martha from causing chaos in the waiting room, trying to keep myself calm when they said I had to go to ER for results... and the dreaded talk with the doctor... and the fears that washed over my being.  And back to the ultrasound just before we started chemo - to check the size of the lesions.
       And now, back on the table again, this time with a very pregnant belly and wondering what the tech is thinking and seeing on her scan and knowing that there's nothing really to do but wait... and waiting is SO hard.  I know there's that text about waiting on the Lord and He'll renew your strength - a song I've taught Martha over the last few months, but it's hard to put it into practice... to be still and know that He is God, that He is the one, the great Physician, that whatever man can predict or tell us, He is still in control.  That He will carry us through this storm, through the seas, where His footsteps are not seen, where He calls us to put our trust in Him... and sometimes, a lot of times, that is a test, that is a trial, that is a time where we are called to think beyond ourselves and think about the infinite, about our mortality, about our humanity, about His holiness and greatness and how His ways are higher than our ways.
    And that despite the fact that I feel a need and a pull to be here with my family, that I need to be walking with Him, in step with His Word.  And then I'm thankful for faithful devotion books that help keep us in step with Him, that guide us again and again to His Word, that help us to see our salvation in Christ, and the comfort that that brings.  And yet, verses like "He numbers the very hairs of our head" seem hard to understand when I'm pulling out strands and strands of hair due to the chemo... and that not a hair can fall from our heads without His will.. do we take that literally?
     I'm admitting to having a hard time in dealing with some of the latest side effects of this round and am truly grateful to be off chemo for a time - the hand-foot syndrome from the 5FU is a new one this time and is entirely unpleasant - my poor hands felt puffy, sore, like a really bad sunburn and are only just recovering now, the cold sensitivity increases with each round, there have been lots of gut upsets, not nausea but lots of trips to the bathroom which isn't any fun, and now the latest fun, mouth sores and pain due to possible mucositis down my throat (a term for mouth/digestive tract sores that develop during chemo).  And so we try to keep spirits up, to make it through the day without major upsets but it's a challenge, a struggle.  Naptime is oh so coveted and guarded and I'm finding I need it more and more.  I'm so thankful for my bed... and the relief that sleep brings, a bit of a respite from the wandering thoughts...

    And yes, the passage of time brings me to the birthday celebrations of the past week.  I turned 40 - a true milestone and reason to celebrate.  And we did so in style.  On Tuesday, the girls in the chemo suite decorated for me and made me feel very special, there were gigantic 40 balloons on my porch when I came home from chemo, lots of texts, emails and messages to cheer up the day.  Timothy spoiled me with flowers, chocolates, and gifts and Martha was super excited to celebrate Mommy's birthday with cake.  Later that evening a special dinner out at Spencer's on the Waterfront - we've been there a few times, lovely ambiance, delicious food, great service and wonderful memories each time.  Even came with free birthday dessert which pushed me over the stuffed mark but it was a great dinner nonetheless.  And then Saturday, an open house and we had a grand total of 63 people here at our house - a truly special afternoon.  With lots of help from friends and family, we truly celebrated - everyone brought photo or tangible memories along with them and there were 25 kids running around like banshees and delicious BBQ food courtesy of my brother-in-law and cake and balloons and lots of food and presents and it was a hit!  So grateful again for all who helped out - cleaning, cooking, baking cakes, minding kids!  Back to that community again!
    And so til tomorrow... hopefully sleep will be merciful... hopefully my gut will be settled, hopefully I'll be able to fully rest in God's grace for this evening and let each day's worries be unto each day.