A strange planet...

You know that scene in Toy Story where Buzz arrives in Andy's room and can't figure out what's happened to him? I kinda feel like that.

Last night I finally spent my first night with my new family- all three of us together! It was wonderful in ways that words could never capture. At the same time it was...otherworldly in many ways. For one, I'm a new mom and I am baffled by the sheer amount of time she sleeps, and the frequency with which she eats and poops. I'd heard the rumors. I know now they are all true. ;)

But that isn't why I find this so surreal. What I struggle with is how I'm doing things, where I'm doing them, and maybe even sometimes why I'm doing them. That pretty much covers the full gamut that confusion can run. So on one hand I'm happy, confident. On another I'm just spacey, going through the motions with a genuine smile, pleased to have the opportunity to be with my family, but still lost in the fog of incomprehension. I feel a little guilty about that...like I should somehow just be able to see this all logically without my emotions (anger, frustration, sadness, etc.) interfering. After all, I knew this whole hospital stay was coming, didn't I?  But like a child, there are moments I want God to fix it now. I want the stress to be over.

Yesterday when we moved from NICU to 2 West, I was hoping that things would somehow feel more normal, but somehow I only just managed to realize how not normal they really are at the moment. As I was walking from NICU to her new room (with bed and pull out chair to accommodate both mommy and daddy) I couldn't think of how pleasant it was that they had Lego boards and other toys stuck to the wall in the corridor. All I could think is "I just really don't want to be here." I guess sometimes it doesn't matter how nice something is..or how dismal. You will feel what you feel anyway.

Of course, I do find it amusing that our ward is located in the old part of the hospital, tucked away behind a security door. Outside our window is a construction lot for the new children's hospital they are building. It's full of rebar. Beyond that is the scenic vista of the parking garage. Yet somehow after settling in, none of that seems as gloomy as it did just yesterday. I adore the staff. They have been so helpful to me in getting settled in and feeling as normal as I can here in wonderland. Plus, I really do appreciate the fact that she has doctors monitoring her right now with all that's going on.

And God is here. I feel Him with me, despite it all. When I think about it, the Almighty must have a pretty good idea about what it's like to leave the familiar to come someplace where everything is foreign. I mean, Its what Jesus did for me. How many time did he look around and go, "This is soooooo messed up!" I guess that's why He can give me such good comfort now. As of this evening, the swelling in her back has decreased some and they are now cathing every 12 hours instead of every 8. They are getting very little urine out during the cathing and her diapers are wet. The VCUG showed no reflux. On Monday the attending pediatrician will be checking with urology to find out what's up. More waiting. But I can handle it. I named her "good news" for a reason. My little Evangeline is a miracle in process.

Romans 8:31-32 "What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? ³ He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?"