2.20.2014

A horrible, beautiful, unplanned week

I'm not much of a planner (in fact, three year-old Gus is much better about thinking what comes next than I am).  I love a bit of spontaneity, and I'm generally up for excited about a bit of adventure.  I'm a solid P.  But our weeks do tend to have the same old rhythm from one to the next.  Church, pre-school, small group, story time at the library....rinse and repeat.  So I normally have a vague idea of where I'll be and what I'll be doing in the day or week ahead.
Last week was an anomaly.  Tuesday ushered in Atlanta's second winter storm this year, with ice coating streets, cars, and power lines.  We hunkered down in the living room with a fire, an air mattress, and curtains tacked up over the doorways as we watched our power flicker off and on.  Keith stayed home from work both Wednesday and Thursday.  Somewhat nice, if a bit inconvenient, but not what I had anticipated for the week.
Friday he went back to work, and I was just getting everyone dressed for a grocery run when Lula's nose started bleeding.  She's had nosebleeds before, and the hematologist warned me they would be more common with the dry winter air, so it didn't immediately cause me to panic.  But after thirty minutes of extremely heavy bleeding, an apparent failure of her coagulant medication to stop it, and a brief consultation with one of the hematology nurses on the phone, we were headed into the ER.  Not what I had planned for the day.
Thankfully, also not as planned, my mom showed up at our door in the middle of all the bleeding and was able to watch the boys while I made phone calls and while Lula and I headed to the hospital.
Once at the ER, the doctors used a rhino rocket to stop the bleeding.  I had high hopes for a quick discharge so we could be on our way.  Then the doctor informed me that we would be taking an ambulance up to the children's hospital in Atlanta.  Definitely not what  I had planned.
Her first (and hopefully last) ambulance ride

At Children's, we found out we were going to be admitted for the night.  With nothing but the bloody, stained clothes on our backs, we settled into the hospital room.  We quickly learned to take the unexpected as it came: we wouldn't, in fact, be going home the next morning, but would have to spend another night at the hospital.  L would need a platelet transfusion.  Our plans for sleeping through the night were undeniably thwarted as nurses came in every one to three hours for vitals, medicine, or just (it seemed) to annoy and wake us.  All of this, along with watching my sweet girl as she was in pain and scared, was not in the plans for the weekend.
Thankfully, also not as planned, our wonderful family and church family prayed earnestly for us as we were in the hospital.  My parents graciously helped watch the boys, cleaned up the bloody mess at our house, and came to visit us in the hospital.  Our families called to cheer us up.  Keith made a Target run for clean clothes, fresh fruit, and mascara.
Coaxing my daughter to eat anything, even a sugar-coated cupcake, was definitely not in the plan.

Sunday morning, the morning Hampton was scheduled to be baptized, was approaching, and it was unclear whether we would be discharged in time.  We woke early, combed our hair and dressed in our church clothes, and waited to hear if we would be released.  One minute it seemed that we would never make it to church in time, the next there was hope.  Finally, at 10:30, we received our discharge papers and dashed for the exit.  We had 30 minutes before church started, and a 50 minute drive.  Keith had gotten the boys dressed and to church, and had let our pastor know that we were on our way, but running late.  My sweet mom was driving us, and her little Prius was working hard to speed us on our way.  Keith kept texting, asking how far away we were, and letting us know where we were on the program.  All of this was a far cry from what I had planned for the morning.
Thankfully, also not as planned, our wonderful pastors stalled, rearranged and graciously waited as we rushed to the church.  Sweet Hampton was baptized, with both of his siblings looking on.

We've since made two unplanned trips to the outpatient lab for more bloodwork, and have spent unplanned hours praying and crying and trying not to worry over our little girl.  If we're smart, though, we will have learned that worrying is useless, that we can't control or plan for much of anything.  That all we can do is to try to be godly, loving parents and to trust in God's sovereignty and love for us.  Because He is good.  And sometimes we see that best in the midst of the unplanned.      
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