No Matter What Goes Right

When I was fourteen or fifteen, I heard the song "No Matter What Goes Right" by Trout Fishing in America. Anyone who know them knows that the vast majority of their songs are quite humorous. "No Matter What Goes Right" is a song about marriage and loving your spouse no matter what goes right in life. It is an answer to all the songs about relationships surviving all the obstacles. While I recognized (and the song acknowledges) that no life will be completely free of challenges, I (being a complete idealist and a teenager) began to expect that my life and my future marriage would be just this way. Of course there would be challenges, but I had made all the right choices and fully expected that I would have a "No Matter What Goes Right" kind of life.The last eight weeks or so have forced me to face reality in a way no idealist ever hopes they must. I'll start at the beginning.

In late September, my husband, M, and I had our furnace inspected and discovered two cracks in the heat exchanger. This resulted in a couple of weeks of no heat, no air conditioning, and a hefty bill. It also saved us from the awful fate of carbon monoxide poisoning. Since I was seventeen weeks pregnant with our first child, we gladly paid and inspected our brand new furnace. Thank you, Lennox! While this changed how we planned to spend our money, we quickly embraced this bump in the road.

Just a few weeks later, on October 19 and exactly four months to the day after finding out we were expecting our first baby, we went to the doctors office for a sonogram appointment only to learn the devastating news that our baby did not have a heart beat. Less than 24 hours later, we found ourselves in the Labor and Delivery department of the hospital awaiting the birth of our daughter, Faith, and learning what it means to say goodbye before even saying hello. There really is no way to explain what this experience is like. If you don't know, I pray you never find out. If you do, my heart hurts for you.

Faith was born on October 21, 2011, at 2:38 in the morning, was seven inches long and weighed 6 ounces. Before she was delivered we had no idea of her gender, but I decided (in my sleepy, morphine-induced stupor) that if she was a girl her name would be Faith. I believe with all my heart that God is good and God is love and that only by walking in faith will my life, will all of our lives, be worth living. My daughter's name is a reminder to me every day to abide in God's love and walk in faith that life will again be good and that no amount of sadness, anger, disappointment, or fear can separate me from God's love.

The same day that we said goodbye to our daughter we also had our five-month-old kitten, Lilly, spayed. We brought her home the next day, just hours before we buried Faith in the children's section of the cemetery at the church where I am youth pastor. She was sleepy and a bit dopey from the pain medication prescribed by our vet. M looked up the medication on the internet and discovered that it was not recommended for use in cats, but our vet had prescribed it so we went ahead and gave it to her. Ten days later she reacted. I watched as within one hour she went from being her normal, feisty, playful self to a nearly comatose kitten. She was hidden under the back of the couch, and all I could do was watch her hoping she wouldn't stop breathing before M and I could get her to the vet. They were able to stop her "episode" and the next day we brought her home only to have her go into another after the vet's office had closed for the day. We took another emergency drive to the vet and he was able to stop the episode, but had no idea what was going on or how to keep her from having another. Finally, after a total of three episodes, cleaning our entire house trying to find out if she'd been eating something she shouldn't, and feeling like horrible pet owners, the vet decided to put her on a low protein diet in hopes that her episodes were caused by her cat food. Four days later, we brought her home. It's been one week, but so far so good. No more sick, Lilly.

In the midst of our sick kitty woes, we returned to the doctor's office for my post-delivery, follow-up appointment. How I feel about the news of that appointment changes from day to day and hour to hour. There was nothing physically wrong with Faith and there is nothing physically wrong with me. There was evidence of an infection in the placenta, diagnosis: acute chorioamnionitis. There is no way to know for certain that this is what killed my daughter. It could be that the infection was caused by the amount of time I carried her after she died. The bad news, I will worry about this the entire pregnancy if I am ever pregnant again. The good news, there is no reason to think that we will necessarily lose another baby.

That brings me to this week. In any other week the events of this week would be minor, but we are beginning to feel a bit like Job. This week's challenges: a leaky shower that requires the water be turned off when we are not actively using it (I mean, seriously, we can't even shut off the shower! It just runs!!) and a funny noise from the engine of the car (thankfully, this appears to be minor!).

So, now what? Next week is Thanksgiving, and I can find only tiny things for which to be thankful (more on that later). I feel pushed to my limit and exhausted, but can't sleep (Thank God for Ambien!!). I cry when I listen to most music. I am grateful for the many women God placed in my life who have lost a child and understand my loss, but I hurt for each of them knowing they have felt or continue to feel what I feel. I REALLY want a week to go by without any major incidents. I know it won't make me hurt less, but I would be ever so grateful for one uneventful week, one lousy, "no matter what goes right" kind of week! Prayers for this would be much appreciated!