Thinking...

I'm laying here in my new bedroom doing some thinking. As my belly undulates from my energetic son, I hear the muffled sounds of my husband and father- in- law working out on our back deck. Getting used to the new sounds and smells and feels of our new home, I feel so full and yet so empty. Across the hall from me sits a baby room. beautifully painted, but furniture-less. It's tenant hasn't arrived yet, and so it naturally feels lonely. The room serves a purpose, and it's kind of ready, but it's kind of not.

I'm thinking, I'm kind of like that room. I feel like I've been painted, ready to embrace life. Equipped with how to respond in tough situations, knowing the right words and thoughts, so in some ways I'm ready. But in some ways, I'm just not.

Part of my heart is saying the Lord is always good. He could do nothing for me for the rest of my life, and He would still be good, because that's just who He is. The other part of me has a few questions I'd like to ask Him. And possibly with some sass behind my tone of voice.

I'm thinking about broken relationships. People who have pretended to be a friend, who have used me for their own gain, who have talked friendship to my face and the opposite when my back was turned. Who have blamed me for a changed friendship, but expect me to be the only pursuer in the relationship. Who use me when it's convenient for them, but forget about me when all I need is their compassion. But I'm thinking about the good ones, too. The ones who know me. Who have put effort into me and my family. Who want to see me happy with no other motive but their love for me.  The ones who will do anything they can think of to somehow make me smile, whether they get to see it or not.

I'm thinking about my life. I'm thinking about how for as long as my memory serves, I feared either not being able to have children. Or having a child with physical problems :: Cue Alanis Morrisette's "Isn't it Ironic":: I'm thinking about my visit to the doctor today. The painfully long ultrasound, where in my head over. and over. and over. I said "Jesus, speak kidney. Jesus, speak kidney. Jesus, speak kidney." I'm thinking about the possible outcomes. The bad ones. What the doctor tried to explain to me. The terminology that makes no sense to me. I'm thinking of the words surgery. For a little, tiny baby. A baby who hasn't even breathed his first breath yet. Who consumes me. All of me. My every thought. My body. A baby that is equally me as he is Owen. The same baby that had me worried about being a mom, now has me worried for entirely different reasons.

I'm thinking of the doctor with the kind smile who told me that there were positives to this appointment. The  'syndrome' has been knocked out as a possibility. Everything else looks to be going great. And the fluid in my stomach is very good, meaning the right kidney is doing something right, because my boy is peeing.

I'm thinking about my first trimester when that kidney was supposed to develop. Going through the list of all the things I ate or didn't eat. The couple weeks I stopped taking my Prenatal vitamins because they were making me vomit. The days spent laying in bed sicker than I've ever been while everyone told me 'Yea but being sick is a good thing. It means the baby is healthy.' Yet, I was sick. And his left kidney refused to form. 

I'm thinking about my wedding day. Seeing pictures of 2 very happy people with their whole lives ahead of them. I'm thinking of me a year ago. What I could have possibly been doing on a Thursday night in August.  No idea how my world would be shaking and shifting soon. 

I'm thinking about God. How he knits us together in our mother's womb. How we are told He is so close to us. And I'm thinking I've never felt Him further away. That if He was really paying attention to what He was knitting, we wouldn't be having the 1 in every 1,000 babies born without one of their kidneys. If He is in charge of these things and is 'so close to us' then what was the oversight? Why us?

I'm thinking of my husband. Who's faith hasn't seemed to be shaken. Who doesn't question "Why Us?". Who doesn't hear the negative the doctor is saying, but has the ability to abstract only the positive. I'm thinking about him and how much I love that about him. And yet, how much it bothers me. 

I'm thinking about what I would be writing if our appointment today ended with "There it is! He has 2 kidneys." How I would have cried happy tears and shouted to the masses about how good and wonderful and wise and protective and healing and providing MY GOD IS. Because He is all those things. And even though I'm having a hard time seeing it right now, I believe it. I know I do. I have to.

I'm thinking of all the people who have taken time out of their day to pray for the 3 of us. I'm thinking of silent tears offered up as prayers with no words. I'm thinking of Jesus taking those prayers, whether they be loud and bold, or little whisperings. I'm thinking of Him approaching the throne, asking on my behalf. I'm thinking of Him getting the answer "No."

And while I'm so thankful tonight for so many things.

I'm feeling so very empty.

Laying here.

Thinking.

A Name

A lot has happened since my last post, we found out we are having a BOY! He kicks me with all he's got now, and he's got a lot. We bought a HOUSE! It's everything I've pictured for our growing little family. We went down to California for our 1 year wedding anniversary! It was a wonderful time spent with such good friends.

But this week I have had a heavy heart. A series of events have led me to question things I haven't had to question in a long time and have left gaping wounds where flesh once protected me.

 I had an ultrasound this week. At my previous ultrasound they couldn't see one of his kidneys because of the way he was laying. But I wasn't worried. However, at my last visit, they couldn't see it again and as I laid on that table with just me, the ultrasound tech and a machine, I watched her write the words "Right Kidney" and "Left Kidney Area". Not "Left Kidney". She wasn't authorized to say anything, so I walked out of there and called my mom crying. My mom is a labor and delivery nurse so she is my go to expert. She said a lot of things but the things I remember were " So what if there is one? People donate kidneys all the time and live off one. If God gave him one kidney, crying about it isn't going to do you any good. He will be fine."

The next day at the doctor's office, I was told that it looks like my precious baby boy is missing his left kidney. I didn't cry when she told me. I got the lump in my throat that felt like a boulder. I got the sting in my eyes that felt like a swarm of bees had attacked. But it wasn't until I walked out into the parking lot that I felt my knees go weak, my head spin and the tears began to flow. I wanted nothing more than for this baby to be completely whole. That his life would be limitless. That his mom wouldn't worry about that kidney for the next 50 years every time he played a sport, rode his bike, got in a car. I wrestled with the Lord. Why would He do this? If He could SPEAK the world into existence, speaking a KIDNEY couldn't be so hard. If I could do it, I would stay up for the rest of my life saying the word "kidney" until my son got a second one.

It took this to really, fully make me realize how much humans are capable of loving. I know we can be vicious, selfish people. But the Lord has given us the ability to LOVE with a reckless abandonment. I have this child, who I've never even seen, never met. He's never done anything to make me love him. He's made me more sick than I've ever been in my life. He's giving me stretch marks and sleepless nights and likes to kick me. He's done nothing to deserve my love. Yet it's there. And it's FIRE. I realized without a hesitation in my thoughts, not a pause. If it was possible, even if there was nothing wrong with the one he has, but just meant a limitless life for him, I would give him one of my kidneys. Heck, I would give him the heart that pumps fresh blood through my body. This love is unlike anything I've known.

And I sit here and think about my Creator who loves me and my son even MORE than this. And I feel safe.

The night we found this out my family surrounded Owen and I and prayed for us. The power of a family that prays is beyond explanation. But I felt peace and comfort and healing. Owen read Psalm 139. And I've read it a million times since. We prayed for peace that night. We prayed and believed in faith for healing. That the Lord would defy what the pictures are showing right now. I have one more high-tech ultrasound before there is true, hard confirmation that he only has one kidney. But my God doesn't need to work on our time limits. The miracle can happen whenever He wants. It may already have. But, if He decides this baby will have one kidney, well his days have already been numbered, so even with one kidney, we have nothing to fear.

Through this process the Lord gave us a name. It had been in the talks but nothing serious. However I felt confirmation when I was blow drying my hair through tears, on Thursday. But I said nothing. 10 minutes later Owen looked at me and said "So, should we call him Jayce?" He felt confirmation at the same time that I did. Jayce- "Healer- who is like God". Jayce Michael Barton it is.

                                                                         PSALM 139

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.