September 27th came around quickly. The major concern on my mind was the cost of the hospital, and how we were going to pay for it. I wanted to leave, oh boy did I want to leave.
Sarah was mostly immoble. Due to the surgery, her ability to lift herself up was gone, and would return over time. I was very mobile, very vocal, and the hospital knew.
Sometime that afternoon, the hospital actually sent a relations specialist or some such thing to our room to discuss payment and how they could help. They offered state assistance, and followed that up with "you have to write your income, but we don't verify it." I rejected this idea immediately, which still left me in a concerned state.
Meanwhile, our baby boy is nameless, and needs a pediatrician to come check him out to verify his ability to be alive.
To this point in our parenting lives, we have taken all of our children to the same pediatrician that I was taken to when I was a child. The reason? It's the only one I knew of. You know the drill right? Regular appointments every so often, a vaccination schedule- the usual rigamorole. We did this mostly, but Sarah and I never subscribed to the wellness baby checkups because all of our children were healthy, and we didn't know why it cost $150 to know that our baby's head was in the 90th percentile. Nor did we do anything with the information. I don't even have any of that information framed around my house even now!!
So, because our son was born so unexpectedly, and our midwife could not release us from the hospital the way a pediatrician can, AND because we weren't going to be in a hospital this time, we had to contact our regular baby doctor to tell them of this birth.
A few hours pass.
In comes the doctor.
For what seemed like an hour, the doctor began lecturing Sarah and I on the ills of our lack of scheduling appointments with their office. He referenced how Madalyn our almost 4 year old hadn't seen the doctor very often, and we had ignored their advice on vaccinations, and appointments. He even mentioned that before coming to the hospital to see our son, he had considered telling us he wasn't going to come and help us any longer because we posed a greater risk to the other children they are taking care of at their practice. (Since our children weren't vaccinated the way others were, when our kids are in the office, we give the other children risks that they wouldn't have if our children were up to date.) As the conversation, which was mostly one way, continued, Sarah started crying, and I knew that I had to step up and take over the conversation, which I did. I simply told the doctor, that we weren't against any steps they wanted to take, necessarily, and that we did take our children to other places to get shots. Mainly all I wanted was for him to be quiet, do his job, and leave us alone. I didn't need a lecture, nor did my wife need any feedback from a doctor we didn't plan to see, nor did we expect to be treated like a 16 year old mother and father who had never had any children together, and had barely had sex to begin with. What a trying hour this was.
Finally, he stopped. He began to look over the baby with no name, and moved his arms, legs, made him cry, and the like. Typical. "Get done with it already, doc, leave my son alone," I'm sure I thought. When it seemed that things were just about done, he said, "I think I hear a little clicking sound near his heart."
I think my heart skipped a beat just then. I didn't believe him, nor did I want to given the lecture we just had. He passed it off as something that may or may not be serious. Doctors have a way of saying something terrible, and making you feel like it isn't that bad when it is terrifying, and potentially destructive. This is what this doctor did. He said he'd have some other doctor look at it.
Then he left.
I was objecting to everything that was happening on the inside knowing that there were factors outside of me that I could not control. Knowing that God was in control of all these other factors helped more than I can say; however, in the middle of the circumstance, that wasn't the first thing on my mind. Denial was probably first, then anger. After some venting, the bulwark of my faith had to show up, or it must not be there at all. Sovereign means sovereign, and I needed that.
Later on, yet another person came in to wheel our son out, and give him some test. I think I was at work briefly that day. When I returned to the room, Sarah was doing ok, our son was there, and Sarah told me a test was done. "Ok." I thought.
A blonde woman walked in the room demanding attention. She introduced herself, and said she had the results of the test they had run on our son. Sarah and I were seated on chairs with the window of the room to our backs. She pulled up a chair and sat in the middle of the two of us, and told us that our son had a bicuspid valve in his heart, and that it was working just fine; however, that over time these things tend to get worse. She told us that if things got worse, they would gradually change, and he wouldn't turn blue in the face one day and fall over. She also told us that people have issues like this and live a long time, and even don't know they have it. She then produced a printout from Wikipedia quoting some information about bicuspid valves, and various consequences of them. On the Wikipedia handout, there were some pictures of hearts, and other things. Based on the information she gave us, first of all, we were in shock. I was unhappy with the hospital, pediatrician, and now they have thrown another doctor at us? This was not sitting well with me. When I could gain composure, I asked her if things were ok, if he'd have to see a doctor at all. Her response is still shocking to me today. She said, "Well, yes, he'll have to see a doctor the rest of his life, and we're the only pediatric cardiology in Kalamazoo, so he'll be seeing me."
This didn't help. I don't like one option, and I don't like being told I have one option when I know there must be more. Furthermore, I didn't appreciate the lack of professionalism in printing Wikipedia pages from the internet. I could do that from home.
September 27th was more difficult than the day before in many ways. I knew that God was in control, and I didn't doubt him. I didn't know what He was doing or why. It was hard encapsulate what had happened in the past 40 hours. I definitely wasn't ready to talk about it. I didn't talk about this for a very long time.
People came to the hospital to see our son with no name. We were glad to visit with friends from church, other friends, and family for sure, but we couldn't talk about these things yet. We just weren't ready.
Sarah and I had never struggled with a name this much before. Audrey's name was chosen long before she arrived, and Haley was in the middle of her pregnancy. Brett's name was right in line right up to his birth, and with fluttering eyelids, I got that one through. Madalyn's name was carefully chosen, and ready as her birth was scheduled. This little baby had produced more anxiety and surprise than any other child thus far, and the downfall was that it took over 60 hours to find a name suitable for his little person.
No matter what came, God did this. He created my son. He crafted him special- just like every other baby. He formed my baby from inside the womb.
Pro 11:14b "In abundance of counselors there is safety."
Ps 139:13 "For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb."
Father of mine, oh come and see
We are lost, destitute, and not free.
We cannot leave this dark place
We need store upon store of your grace.
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