When I last wrote, we were preparing to go to Dallas for Flint's MRI and shunt check. I am SO happy to report that the MRI looks great and everything is going well inside my little man's head!
Trayson, Flint, and I flew to Dallas the day before our appointment and stayed with my sister Katie and her family. Trayson got to hang out with his cousins all day, while Flint and I headed to the Children's Medical Center. I was a little nervous to go back to the hospital, just because our other experiences there were so full of fear and uncertainty. Our first visit was the day after my fetal MRI, when we met with Dr. Weprin and were just barely beginning to learn about Flint's brain issues. I was an emotional wreck and could barely hold my swollen, pregnant self together! Our second visit back was the week we were there for Flint's shunt surgery. He was only 3 weeks old, barely weighed 5 pounds, and there were still so many questions in our minds about what his life would be like. It was a little emotional to walk back into the hospital that morning, but I am grateful that for the most part, it was happy emotions. While my first experiences there were so full of stress, walking back in with a happy, healthy baby who is thriving made those experiences take on a happy feel, so it was actually nice to be there.
Flint's MRI was at 7:00 in the morning, so when we arrived, they immediately took us back to the exam room. They swaddled Flint up in a big sheet and then taped it closed so he couldn't move easily. After that they taped little ear pads on his ears and placed baby-sized head phones on top of those to drown out the noise of the machine. Once he was good to go, they laid him on a tray, wedged his head in this little vice thing, and then put him in the machine. They said I could feed him while it happened, but my sweet little boy just laid there and calmly looked around until it was done. He was so stinking cute! I was so curious how his MRI would work, because when I had my fetal MRI, it took an hour and a half of me lying perfectly still, flat on my back so they could get all the pictures they needed. I thought that surely they were going to have to sedate Flint or something to make it all work! However, the machine they use for babies takes all the pictures needed in about 20 seconds, so it was no big deal at all. We were literally in and out in less than 5 minutes.
When we met with Dr. Weprin later that day, he asked how Flint was progressing and then spent some time checking his head and reflexes. He looked at the MRI and said that everything looked great for this point in the game. He confirmed that the ventricles in Flint's brain are still quite full of liquid, but there's no pressure in there so all is well. Once his soft spot seals shut, that will change the pressure a bit in his brain which will help to drain the ventricles better. We will have an MRI there every 6 months until the fluid level is right, and then go into more of a maintenance schedule with check-ups once a year. He said Flint looked great and he was happy to hear about how well Flint is doing. YAY! Such great blessings! Our appointment lasted about 10 minutes, and I was so grateful that I left his office feeling so much happier than the last time I was there! What a difference 7 months made!
While our visit back to Children's was wonderful and I left so grateful, I also had an experience there that I will always remember. While Flint's MRI was at 7 in the morning, his appointment with Dr. Weprin wasn't until 11:00. It was pointless to try to drive back to Katie's house, so Flint and I spent the next few hours hanging out in the lobby at the hospital. He mostly slept and I mostly people-watched. As I watched people come and go, I wondered what kind of battles these sweet young kids and their families were fighting. When it was almost time for Flint's second appointment, I noticed a pregnant couple walking down the hall. I was instantly drawn to them, because there's no labor and delivery unit in this hospital, and you don't normally see pregnant couples walking around a children's hospital by themselves. I wondered if they were there to visit a patient, or if, like Brock and I had been 7 months earlier, THEY were the patients. Twenty minutes later, it took my breath away to walk into the Neurosurgeons' office and see this same couple sitting in the waiting room. They smiled pleasantly and tried to look calm, but I recognized the fear in their eyes. Instantly, I was transported back to my first visit there and all the horrible thoughts and feelings I had that day. I felt so bad for this couple and wondered what their child was going to have to face. I watched as the nurse came to get them and escorted them back to meet with their doctor, and then right after that, we were called back to meet ours. After Flint's appointment, he was hungry so I sat down in the waiting room to feed him. As I fed him, I watched as this same couple walked back into the waiting room, done with their appointment and ready to go. This sweet mom could hold it together no longer and she finally let herself break down into quiet tears. Her husband put his arm around her and they left. And my heart broke!
I know the quiet anguish of that mother's heart. I know the fight to hold tears in and try to look calm and brave, when every part of you wants to collapse in tears on the floor. I know the fears and uncertainties that are so hard to escape when you've just learned that your perfect baby may not have the life you dreamed they would. I know how easy it is to assume the worst when all you hear from the doctors is The Worst! There are so many things that I wanted to do in that moment before they walked away. I wanted to run up to them, shove Flint in their face, and yell, "Don't despair! I was where you are 7 months ago, and look at this sweet miracle! Look at the way he smiles and loves every person he comes in contact with! Look at the sweet, amazing spirit God put inside his perfectly imperfect body! Watch the way he fights and fights to get his body to cooperate with his wishes so he can learn to do things we thought he may never do! The brain is amazing and can compensate for what might be missing! Come home with me and see the way his big sister and brothers serve him and dote on him because they adore him so much! Come feel the gentle spirit he has brought into our home and the peace and joy that is now ours! There is so much room for hope! This whole thing could turn out so much differently than what they are telling you! There are so many miracles to be had!" I wanted to share with them all the sacred experiences we have had, and all the amazing things we have learned because of the sweet baby we were asked to bring into the world. Mostly though, I just wanted to hug them and cry with them.
I wanted to do all these things, and more. But I didn't. I hate that I didn't, and I can't even really say why I didn't. It could have been because I was too afraid of my own emotions, or the way this couple would react to me. Maybe it was because I know that in that moment, they really wouldn't have believed anything I said to them anyway. It may have been that I didn't want to give them any false hope. I really don't know what the condition of their baby was and maybe for them, it really was going to be bad. Not everyone's path into that doctor's office ends the way ours is, a fact that I was painfully aware of as I saw a baby just about Flint's age lying motionless on his mother's lap, staring blankly ahead. I don't know why I didn't just throw my arms around that couple, instead of sitting there, watching them walk away. I wish I had overcome my fears and DONE something. In any case, I think often about them and every time I do I say a silent prayer for them and their sweet baby. I wonder how their journey is progressing and hope they are doing well. I know I will never forget them.
