Baby Beth - Headed Home

"Treat her like a normal baby."

I drew a deep breath.  Like a normal baby?

 It seemed impossible.

 After six tense weeks of living in exile, with close monitoring, weekly echo cardiograms, daily kick counts and hourly prayers, Elsabeth was here.

The time spent in the acute care unit was very peaceful

After a C-section, four nights in the NICU, two in the PACU, and one in the Ronald McDonald House, we were free to go home.

Weighing in at a healthy 8lb 7oz, my warrior princess looked just like her older sister, Ana.  Pink skin, lots of dark hair, bright and curious eyes.  She's strong, able to pick her head up and give me hungry little kisses on my chin.  She's serene and peaceful.  It's as if a mantel of prayers and a company of angels are surrounding her.  I believe that they are.

But could I treat her like a normal infant?

Dr. Chen continued, "She looks wonderful.  Her heart is functioning well.  The aneurysm is unlikely to rupture at this time.  All of her vital signs have been right on target since birth.  These are all hopeful signs that she's stable and able to travel home.  Let her grow.  In several months she will be larger and better able to handle the first surgery.  In the meantime, have a cardiologist in Tulsa follow her.  You have other children.  You know what normal looks like.  Anything out of the normal, let me know.  I'll see you back here when she is 8 weeks old."

I couldn't believe that just like that we were free to go home.  It was scary to think of traveling so far with someone so little.  We weren't sure if we were ready to be so far away from our doctors and treating hospital.  We had even considered staying in town for a few more days.  There was just one little problem . . .

 "One more question, Doc." Robert spoke up.

"We were thinking about staying in town this weekend.  But there is this storm coming in today, Hurricane Harvey.  Should we leave?  We don't want to get stuck in evacuation traffic in a hurricane with a newborn.  What do you think?"

"Get out.  You need to leave immediately, while you still can.  I have seen what happens when this city floods.  You don't want to be here."

And so we did. 

I find it more than a little ironic that I began this series about the birth of our daughter comparing it to a storm, a hurricane with God at the center.  And now here was the Storm of the Century bearing down on the Houston area in a matter of hours.  We were blessed to be able to gather our things back at the Ronald McDonald House and were on the road home by early that afternoon.  It was surreal to see people boarding up windows and toting truck beds full of water.  This was the real deal.  Surprisingly, traffic was not any worse than usual. (Which is bad enough!)  We stopped every two hours to feed and change Beth.  After resting overnight in Oklahoma City and spending the day visiting with a few family members it was time to finally and truly head home.

My Grandma Kimball

  We bumped our way up the driveway.  The twosome that had driven down it was returning as three.  Praise God!

"Welcome home, little one."

And then came the tears.  All the pent up emotions, the fear, the pain, the joy, finally overflowed the sturdy floodgates I had constructed.  The deluge continued for two weeks.

I cried in the backseat as I unbuckled her.
I cried as I entered the house.
I cried when the kids woke up one by one the next morning to discover a complete and altogether new family.
I cried when Ana brought me The Story of Ferdinand to read to her as it summoned the memory of a NICU father reading this very story to his critically ill infant.
I cried as the grim news from Houston relentlessly rolled in.

I cried for two weeks, until another crisis jolted me back to sanity.  Yes, Baby Beth is by the grace of God a healthy and miraculously normal baby.  If it wasn't for the sharp eyes of my obstetrician, we would never know anything was different about her.

 It was a completely unrelated turn of events that landed her in the hospital at the age of 3 weeks.

It was RSV.