Today, I’m taking the time to slow down and update you all for three reasons: I need to slow down. I need to send out an echo of what I’m hearing and seeing. As many, many of you are on this adventure with us, I need to keep you up to date on details.
Eden is gaining weight. She is now 3 lbs, 7 oz.
She is now big enough to wear clothes and be swaddled.
Eden is completely off methadone, and the remaining signs of withdrawal are decreasing daily.
She is increasing her eating (still through a feeding tube) and experiencing no problems with digestion.
The ultrasound on her brain showed signs of improvement with decreased visibility of the initial injury as well as the ventricles looking healthier.
She shows no signs of retinopathy, a problematic condition to which babies born as early as Eden can be prone.
Eden shows signs of recognition with both Jon and I, which is just a thrill.
Most recently, Eden has been moved out of the NICU and into a step-down unit called Special Care! Which is a huge sign of progress!
(And it makes me what to SHOUT: hallelujah! Thank you Jesus!)
Each day we have received some good news. Every single day. And each time, my heart bursts with gratitude, joy I’ve not known in so many consecutive days, and tidal waves of relief. I had no idea the intensity of emotions that thankfulness and renewed hope could bring. Hence my need to slow down, note them, express them, and remember.
Many times, as I’ve sat holding Eden in the NICU, amid sounds of medical care and sadness, I pray and beg God to keep healing her. I’m afraid of some of the outcomes of her remaining fragility and the aftermath of injuries already sustained, the results of which we won’t know for months or years. I find myself telling God the things about His character that should guarantee Him showing up in the big ways I hope and imagine. I tell Him how many people are praying for Eden, as if He doesn’t know each of you already. I tell Him all the reasons He should answer me. And as my Father, I know that He’s okay with all of that.
But then, time and again, He will stop me and speak over Eden and I…
“Grace… Grace… Grace…”
A sweet, tender reminder from my Abba, on whom I fall on so much these days. Eden and Jon and I are deeply loved by Jesus, and we have done nothing to earn or deserve it.
I need not approach God on the grounds that His character may be misunderstood, though He may act for His name’s sake. I need not come to Him with an army of praying warriors, though these intercessions are a pleasing aroma to Him. I need not have any justification to make my request. I come as a child of God, through my merciful Jesus. And all good I receive from His soft hand is grace… grace… grace.
So, meritless, fearful, but loved I am bringing these concerns to my Abba today:
Eden’s optical nerves appear to be smaller than they should be, particularly the left. They will be checked again in two weeks.
Tomorrow, Eden will be at 32 weeks gestation. She still has 8 weeks worth of development to do! Gaining weight, maintaining temperature, eating from a bottle…
Her brain, which has been through a lot, continues to need healing from the brain bleed.
Both of Eden’s birthparents are hurting deeply and running to satisfy their hurt in ways far from Jesus. They need Him. Desperately. Eden is connected to these individuals and will need supernatural healing from this connection.
It would be another six hundred word post to share all the kindness we have received from you and you and you and you. Responsibilities taken over, air tickets provided, purchased meals, extension of friendship old and new… If I had my druthers, I would come to you each right now, hug you, thank you. And let’s be honest, I would cry. For that has been my response as I hear about each donation, each encouraging message, each sacrifice of time for Eden’s sake. As I cannot do that right now, I will trust in the supernatural reaches of my Abba and speak over each of you…
Grace… grace… grace.