Today is July 24th, and we have now been home one month.  It's been a wonderful, rough, emotional up and down month.  We have been so blessed by our church and friends who have come alongside us with encouragement, prayer, and food (loved every single meal!).  I am so thankful for the women in our church who don't let me get away with "we're doing good" sort of answers.  I've needed them, and they have held me up.

Zoe is now 7 lbs, 10 ounces and 3 and 1/2 months old (corrected age: 3 weeks tomorrow).  We got newborn pictures taken today, which was quite fun.  She is smiling more and more every day.  I am realizing now the sacrificial love moms and dads give to developmentally and physically disabled kids who may never smile or hug or show appreciation.  After nearly four months of giving Zoe hours of care day and night, we are getting our first sign of recognition, interaction, appreciation... baby love.

I often think of how each of my kids is a miracle baby.  Micah and I could well have died during birth, if God had not caused us to live in an age and location to receive ultrasounds and a C-section.  Lydia's prognosis at 4 weeks gestation was "miscarriage." For the next 7 weeks we waited, but God kept His hand on us and she arrived full-term and healthy.  Zoe was declared "non-viable" at 22 weeks gestation.  For God's glory and out of His boundless love for us, He has brought Zoe through, also.  My kids are living reminders of God's love and His control over every situation. I've had to say good-bye to many of my dreams with each pregnancy, too.  Part of God's plan to get myself out of my own spotlight.  You probably wouldn't imagine it, but there was a minor grieving period over the loss of my 3rd trimester with Zoe.  Clothes I wanted to wear and didn't get too; missed pregnancy photo shoot; no sharing baby kicks with big brother and sister; no excitement as Due Date grew near; no packing of the hospital bag.  Not to mention the missing of getting to hold my baby seconds after birth, or minutes, or hours, or days.  (I did get to make up for most of the holding with all the hours in the NICU.)

As part of Samaritan Ministries, Int'l, we have been receiving dozens of letters and checks to pay for my hospital stay.  The notes have been very encouraging and humbling.  One member pointed me to her preemie's story.  Here it is: We Called her Truly  We received notes from several families who had preemies, or who were preemies themselves decades ago.  Once again, I was humbled at how much God had spared us, and how now the body of Christ from around the nation (and even Ecuador) was coming alongside of us to pray, write, and joyfully share our financial burden.

Short bursts of unrelated thoughts... I guess that part of the new-baby sleeplessness.  But that's all for now.

The whole creation groans...

Suffering... it's very easy to see around a hospital.  While holding Zoe, I hear a doctor tell a mom her newborn had a large stroke during birth.  A mom tells me her baby has an unknown sydrome and the doctors don't know how she is going to live.  A young boy passes pushing an IV stand with multiple bags hanging from it.  A couple walks by wiping their eyes.  The skywalks are thick with "in memory of" signs.  It's all so, so sad.  Walking across the skywalk I watch a motorcyclist drive off the road and do a complete cartwheel in the air before hitting the ground inches away from his large motorcycle. (no injuries, praise God!)  My own baby faces near death situations (or they would be if not for the nurses) every day.  I've never felt such a longing for Christ to come and make this world right again!  "When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!  When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory!"  So I am definitely looking forward to Christ's perfect kingdom.  But in the meantime, what do I think, or what do I say to those other NICU moms?  Sometimes I feel like I look too happy in the NICU.  Like other moms are going to think "her baby must be perfect, why is she here?"  I have always struggled with showing, and even feeling compassion or sympathy.  But God is using our experience with Zoe to change that. 

(That's from two months ago, but only now getting posted.  It was going to be a long post, but is part of the past now, so I'll just leave it at that.)