Easter egg hunt pics

Natalie had a little part in the service last week. Each of the kids said something from Psalm 100 and came in waiving palm branches. She was really excited and did a great job. Then for the egg hunt and Easter bunny. This year, she had no fear of the bunny at all. She even got Micah to smile...

The end of the day, Natalie gave Micah his bottle...she really is a great big sister!

Not this time.

Just a little update to share that we didn't get that miracle, at least, not on this side of Heaven.

A reflection

I dreaded meeting this patient all weekend. I had heard the report on Friday. I knew the "story." She wanted to go home to die. She is finally through with the treatment. She is very, very, sick. She probably won't make it another week. But, she really wants to be at home. I quickly called my supervisor and suggested the hospital social worker talk with her. She has little kids, does she want them to see her die? They sent the hospital social worker, who is wonderful, but she wants to be at home.

So, I go. She's six months from my age. I walk in the room and see a young husband, like mine, giving medicine through a pump. I see her toddler snuggled next to her on her bed. I've prayed all day to be composed in this moment. So far, for the first thirty seconds, I'm composed. They shoo their toddler out of the room so they can talk. They use words and phrases that are common at my house these days. I'm more then rattled.

After some small talk, I manage out something like, "okay, look, I've dreaded seeing you." She looks a bit confused, but I continue. "We are about the same age, we both have little kids, and I know in my heart that if I were in your position, there is nothing that I could say to you today to make this any better or different. So I'm just here to help walk with you, whatever that looks like, I'm here." She smiles. We chat for a while a longer and she says,

"We are still praying for our miracle."

I hear that a lot with this work. I believe miracles can happen. I don't pray for them enough, because, well, I rarely see them. I pray for my patients. I don't recall ever asking for the healing miracle though. In three years of patients, I've only seen the healing type of miracle once. That was a lady in her nineties, which, given today, makes no sense at all. I assure her that miracles can happen, but also encourage her to prepare as best she can. After all, none of us are promised tomorrow.

After a while, I chat with her husband and some others, then I leave. I sit in my car for a long time. I bowed my head, closed my eyes, opened my hands and prayed.

I asked God to give her a miracle. A healing miracle. I asked that she would see her kids grow up. And since I was so blatantly reminded of my own mortality today, I prayed this evening that I would get to see my kids grow up too.

Every day, I see two miracles. They are currently three and six months old.

It's about time I start recognizing them as such.

Scaring pregnant women

Today, I accidentally scared a poor pregnant woman. It happened in Babies R Us...probably the least likely place to scare a pregnant woman. Everything there makes this baby thing look easy and pretty and wonderfully cute.

Enter me.

We have seen a new side of Micah over the last few weeks. It's this stubborn child who can will his mouth shut at the mere glimpse of anything other then boob or bottle. We have made numerous attempts to get him to eat cereal or bananas. Tonight, he finally barely parted his lips enough to squeeze some of the spoon in his mouth.

We found out yesterday that he has an ear infection. So now, we must give him an antibiotic. Yesterday we would squeeze a little medicine and stuff the pacifier in his mouth so he would swallow.

So I go to Babies R Us in search of the pacifier medicine dropper. I am convinced this will make my dreams come true. This will be the best invention known to mothers.

I can't find it.

I'm looking at the medicine droppers. Not there. I look with pacifiers. Not there either. Then I hear this voice on the other side of the aisle saying, "How do I know what nasal aspirator to choose?"

I walk around to see a pregnant lady with the coveted registry gun. She is there with her sister in law (I think) and her mom. I spot the pacifier I want, but they are blocking it. So I wait, but finally say, "excuse me" and reach for it.

The pregnant lady says, "what is that?" Now, I don't want to scare her, so I explain I have a cute little bundle at home who just really likes his pacifier so hopefully this will help him.

"It sure did not help mine." says her sister in law.

"Really?" I say, now very discouraged and forgetting about prego girl.

"Well, what did you do?" Says the mom. "Yes, do you have any suggestions?" I said.

"I don't think I should tell you." She says.

I'm desperate. "PLEASE..." I'm now begging.

"well, you see, we tried the paci, he spit it out. We tried everything. So, well, my son was about nine months... my husband almost sat on him, then I cradled his head under my armpit, we pushed the dropper as far back in his mouth as possible, kinda like a dog, because if you get it back far enough, the have to swallow...we kept trying to put it in his bottle, but the hole wasn't wide enough...if only they made a bottle medicine dispenser."

Then our eyes looked back at the isle and we both saw it. The bottle dispenser. We rejoiced together over our find. We discussed how I would buy both, because every child is different and maybe mine would like the paci. We talked about how hard sick kids are and how you just never know if your choosing the right thing.

Then, our eyes looked in the same direction again. Back at prego. She didn't look quite so excited. She was rubbing her belly and seemed to be in some far away place. Probably the happy place her lamaze coach told her to go when things get hard.

I let her stay in that happy place....she'll learn soon enough...happy land has a population of two.

The girl in labor and her anesthesiologist.

Some things are better discovered on your own.