My China Doll

 

I woke up a few minutes ago, after falling asleep in Sophia’s bed with her, her arms tightly wrapped around me, mine tightly wrapped around her.  She asked me to be with her and hold her until she fell asleep, so she would feel comforted. 

She and I have just spent two consecutive nights in the ER.  It’s been quite a while since we’ve made a visit to the ER. So long, in fact, I have begun to feel there is more of a breathing space between those dense, dark woods of her first several years and the bright, wide open pasture we have been enjoying.  Those years when it was the norm for us. 

She was born with a rare “textbook” condition – Congenital Lobar Emphysema.  She seemed fine initially, other than her prematurity – born at 32 weeks with Isabella, both girls weighing less than 4 lbs.- but by day 6, she couldn’t keep her oxygen levels up.  Extreme swelling of her right side necessitated an x-ray, which revealed the unusual condition.  Surgery was 4 hours later – and God was merciful.  She made it.

Having no experience at all with a child with one lung, and a floppy airway, Glenn and I took a crash course the first few years.  Her first major hospitalization was at 6 months old.  I remember trying to get her to nurse at the hospital  – which she was desperate to do, but could only do with short, forceful pulls, turning away after each attempt with frustration and deep gasps, flailing her arms and kicking her tiny legs.  Sweat dampening her entire body with the effort, while Isabella lay crying next to us on the vinyl hospital couch waiting for her turn.  Glenn at home taking care of the other kids – aged 3,4,6,8.  The kind nurses sent a young hospital volunteer to our room to ask if I needed help.  Of course I said, “No thank you, we’re fine!”

Looking back now – 10 years later, my ignorance is almost embarrassing to me.  How little we knew then.  How much we know now.  Yet still not quite enough.

She’s had innumerable x-rays, bronchoscopies, surgeries, breathing treatments, medications, and ouches. We’ve met intensely dedicated, compassionate, smart hospital people. 

Her last surgery was 4 years ago – when a cardiac surgeon stitched the pericardium of her heart to her sternum, that narrow bone at the top of your chest.  He had to do this to keep her lung from continuing to herniate over into the space where her right lung used to be.  Where the second saline implant sits now.  Doing this provides necessary structural support to her chest area, so the left lung won’t grow too large again and squeeze her still-too-soft airway against her spine.

It was especially during that time period we began to see some of the compassion and insight which God was using these experiences to give to her.  After one of our trips to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital for a scope, Isabella and Sophia were sitting together on the sofa in the family room.  Izzy was admiring the little stuffed animals and trinkets the hospital staff had given Soph while we were there that day.  She must have made a comment about them, because suddenly I heard Sophia telling her, “Izzy, it’s ok to want my things, but don’t ever want to be me.  Today people hurt me, and took me away from Mommy and Daddy, and it was scary.  So you can want my things, but just don’t want to be me.”       

She was just shy of seven years old.

 

But God is still merciful, and after so many years of hospitals and doctors, things are easier.  

Until something like now happens.  When I look at her and see her slender body working harder than usual to breathe. 

Because she has a cold. 

 

We’ve done all the usual things the past 10 days, watch for a fever, begin 4 hour breathing treatments, extra Vitamin C, Ibuprofin to prevent that dreadful pleurisy which she seems prone to get now, and monitor her oxygen levels.  But still it’s not enough, and we have to make decisions about what to do.

And then at the hospital, we have to make decisions about what to do.  Again.  Because the ER doctors don’t know her, I do.  And although they have a protocol for children with two lungs, they are unsure and a little intimidated about what to do with her.

I have never yet heard any doctor or nurse tell me they have seen a patient like her before.  Instead they say they have never seen anyone like her. 

So as she sits next to me, drawing quietly on a piece of paper, little pieces of clothing and accessories for our pencil people, and she tells the doctor we are “shopping for free”, decisions have to be made.  Hard decisions about IV’s, and ambulances, and what is the safest and best thing for her.

And suddenly, after 4 hours, things begin to change and we can all see that this time it is mucous plugs.  And they have finally moved themselves out of the way, letting her oxygen levels raise back up to normal, and slightly easing the retractions in her throat.  X-ray is clear.  Breathing treatment has been given.  Our options are changing.

I had already told her there was going to be an IV, which had brought uncontrollable, quiet tears from her.  Now, an hour later, plans had changed, and we could go home.   But the ER doctor had noticed her tears from before, and although I had evaluated that he was a pragmatic kind of man, he was moved by her.  He reached out towards her shoulder lightly as he left the room, saying, “It’s gonna be OK, China Doll.  You’re going home.”

 

I woke up a few minutes ago, after falling asleep in Sophia’s bed with her, her arms tightly wrapped around me, mine tightly wrapped around her.  I wanted to write this down because I want a memorial for her.  A memorial of God’s faithfulness to her, and His kindness to her.  Last night as we talked before she fell asleep, she said, “I wish I didn’t get sick.”  And I reminded her (and myself) that it was the trial God has given to her, and I sometimes wish I could take it from her.  But then she wouldn’t know so well His loving care for her, and how He is using every minute of every sick time to draw her closer to Himself, and grow her faithful and strong – in her soul.

I’m going back up to her now, my little China Doll.  I want to keep my eye on her tonight.  And my arms wrapped tightly around her.  Just counting my blessings.

 

Girl Time

 

I recently shared the story of our trip to Virginia to help my sister paint her kitchen cabinets and shared the before and after pictures.  And then I told you about the fun that Glenn and the other kids had while I was away in Virginia.  But I haven’t yet told you about how the trip blessed me through the time I had with Alix and Kate.

One of the things I most looked forward to when I thought about the trip, was the long car ride with my girls.  Alix is 16, Kate is 14, and they are wonderful companions.  We had some very meaningful conversations.  And we had comfortable quiet.

                                               

Lately we’ve had a lot of talk around our house regarding courtship, marriage, relating to boys and girls, etc.  Since we have 4 teen children, thoughts naturally begin to head that way.  And they aren’t the only ones who think about it.  Glenn and I can’t help but think about whether our kids will marry, what kind of homes their potential spouses are being raised in, and what type of people they might be. 

So the girls and I decided to take our Biblical Courtship cd’s to listen to during the drive.  The sermons are so good!  They stimulated a lot of conversation during, as well as after we listened to them. 

But that wasn’t all we talked about!  We talked about many things, admired the beautiful scenery, enjoyed some snacks we took along.  (like peanut M&M’s and licorice)   For dinner, we stopped at a Roy Roger’s restaurant in Virginia.  Alix was thrilled.  Oh my goodness, Roy Rogers is one of her heroes!  She has watched many old episodes of his television show.  Although Kate wasn’t as excited as Alix, she was still very appreciative and raved about the biscuit she and Alix shared.  In fact, they liked the food so much they begged to stop there again on the way home the next week.  So we did.

While we were at Minda’s house in Virginia, they were a huge help.  They helped us prime and clean all the cabinet doors, and some unpainted baseboard trim, too.  They helped make many of the meals and some fun desserts.  They had a great time playing with their cousins, swimming and jumping on the trampoline, and watching a few movies.  On Saturday, they even did some household cleaning jobs for Minda while she and I were painting top coats on the cabinets.  That night at dinner, when we were sitting down to dinner, my 7 year old nephew asked the girls what they had done that day. When they told him the various things, including cleaning the bathrooms, he replied, “Did you want to?”   Ha!  They moved furniture with us, went shopping with us, and laughed with us.  There was a whole lot of laughing.

    Alix and Kate and Cousin Jordan:

   Here are some funny pictures Kate and Cousin Cameron took of themselves:

 

 

It was an opportunity that doesn’t often come along.  A chance to spend concentrated time with two of my girls.  For them to get to know their long-distance cousins better, as well as my sister, and vice versa.  A chance to serve others and yet have so much fun at the same time.  A chance to learn new things – and see new things, especially at the Museum of Natural History which we visited one day while we were there. 

It was a gift! 

One which the three of us will be able to look back on and feel thankful for, always.

Perspective

 

From a young age, Alix has enjoyed writing down the events of her days.  Like most people, she often wrote in spurts, and then got busy with life and forgot about the journals for periods of time.

A few months ago, she picked up one of the journals she had kept as a girl.  This particular journal covered an entire year, with gaps of time here and there throughout. 

She brought the journal to me that day  and suggested I read it, saying she thought I would enjoy it.

That night, after climbing into bed, I opened the journal and began to read.

The pages were filled with stories of her days.  Stories about games she played with the other kids, gifts she had given them and that they gave to her, and details of a typical day in her life.  On some of the pages, she drew pictures.  Pictures of beautiful ladies, mermaids brushing their hair, and a pony named Samwise, which she sometimes rode at that time.

 

 

And as I read her words, something surprising began to dawn on me.  She talked about the events and happenings in her days, including things about her interactions with her sisters and brothers, with Glenn and me.   Things we all did together, like school and trips and church and friends over for meals.  And most of those things I remembered, too. 

But she also wrote about books she read, conversations with Kate or Luke, games she played with the little girls or books she read to them, and playing with her cousins or friends.  Things I hadn’t done with her.

And I realized that although she was living life in the same house as me, at the same time as me, often she was doing one thing and I was doing something else. And even when we were doing things together, one thing we weren’t sharing was perspective.  

We were living life together, yet with different eyes. With a different perspective.

This may sound obvious and unexciting to you.  But to me, it was like an epiphany.

 

It made me realize that for the most part,  I have seen our family life so subjectively that often, I have not remembered that although the kids were children, they had their own, equally subjective, viewpoint.  Which means that although as their mom, I have been the Director of their days, ordering most of their time – like school and meals and naps and play – they have not been without their own individual and unique thoughts about those events.  Their own individual perspectives. Even when they were very young.

And I suppose the most significant impact of realizing this, was realizing that the way I asked them, or told them, to do things they needed to do, wasn’t being received by someone who felt the same way I did about those things.  That my tone, my facial expressions, my emotions about things were being received by them, and they had their own inner response to all of it, even if they gave no outward indication.

Does that make sense?

They weren’t just my children – who needed to be taught so many things, who needed to be disciplined when they disobeyed, to whom I read books, hugged throughout a day, became impatient with, laughed with or talked with, fed meals to…they were people.  Growing, learning, changing, wanting to please, needing love and encouragement, as well as discipline and correction, and thinking.  About all sorts of things.  Things they shared with me and things they thought to themselves.

And I thought about the times I didn’t remember their frames.  When I didn’t remember that they are little people.  Times I was harsh or demanding or I didn’t consider how my words and actions affected them in ways they weren’t able to express back to me. 

And I felt incredibly thankful for Alix’s journal.  Thankful for the Lord reminding me, through her eyes, that in addition to all the things they really do need to learn in school and in relationships and at church and in society, that they need to be listened to.  And that even when they are very young, they need me to remember they also have a perspective.  That my words – encouraging and discouraging are being heard by little people who love me and want to please me.   And that remembering their perspective, whether they can voice it nor not, would help me be a better mother, and as they grow older – a better friend to them.

Suddenly the passage from Colossians 3:21 became a lot more clear to me

“Fathers (and mothers), do not provoke your children lest they become discouraged.”

 

Maybe you have already realized this and are wondering what took me so long.  

Legal Man

 

Remember the song that went, “Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping, into the future..”? 

Well, that’s how I feel most days. 

Time is slipping daily into the future. 

However, I don’t find myself clinging to the past, or wanting to freeze time.  I really do feel thankful for every day God gives.

Another day to do school with the kids; to learn.  Another day to sing.  Another day to dance.  Another day to laugh.  Another day to do laundry, make food, make beds, and other normal everyday things.  Another day to look out the kitchen window and see changes – snow, rain, mud, green grass, flowers, sunshine. 

But it’s when one of the kids has a birthday, that I especially notice time slipping into the future. 

My first little baby, prayed for and anticipated with almost feverish excitement (since he was the first grandchild for my family), turned 18 on Friday! 

Although we probably have more baby pictures of Luke than any of the other kids, they aren’t digital photos, and they are in the attic.  So today, we’ll have to look back at him as a little boy instead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heading out for a birthday lunch together in 2011.

 

 

 

On our way out for a birthday lunch last Friday.          

 

Luke really hasn’t changed tremendously from the way he was as a little boy. 

He is still thoughtful, introspective, intelligent, hard-working, loyal, faithful, obedient, respectful, kind, and he loves God with a deep faith.

 

We look forward with confidence and joy to see how God will use him for Himself.   

 

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “to prosper and not to harm you; to give you a future and a hope.”  Jeremiah 29:11

 

Is he dearly beloved?

Oh yes!

 

Happy Birthday, Luke!

On Kids and Chores and Gratitude

(This post is in response to a sweet comment on the girls’ garden party post. Although I didn’t intend originally to make my reply a blog post (!) by the time I was finished I couldn’t post it in my comment section because it was too long, and I thought maybe someone else might find something of benefit in our conversation.)
Hi Sandy!

I'm very glad you commented! It brought tears to my eyes when I read that you had a miscarriage, (I'm so sorry!) and that God used the words He gave me in that letter to comfort you.  I kept thinking about that yesterday - with amazement.  Truly it is not to us, but to Him belongs glory.  His kindness and mercy reach beyond anything we can imagine, don't they?
Thank you for your kind words about our home, too. Oh my! How God has sanded some pointy corners off me in that area.  :)  I'm thrilled for you that you can be home and homeschool your 2 little littles.  You'll never regret it!  It's hard work - but it's the best kind of hard work I've ever known.
I am happy to share some of the things we do in our efforts to maintain order around here.  Feel free to sift through them and add them to your mixing bowl as your family grows and changes.  Although I imagine your philosophy will remain consistent, your approach will most likely have several transitions.  I know mine has!  
I look for ways the kids can learn to be responsible and feel their contribution is important to our family. For instance, everyone has a laundry day, where they are in charge of running all the dirty laundry through the washer and dryer. We all help fold and put away each day, but only one is in charge of making sure it all gets clean! During busy school days, they can change a load in between subjects, or before or after lunch.

For years, we've had "teams" for kitchen clean up. I spent time in the beginning showing them the things I wanted them to do, wipe counters, clear the table, vacuum, etc. The makeup of the teams has changed many times, depending on the age and ability of the kids.  For a while we've had the girls alternating days with the boys. Recently Glenn had a great suggestion for a change that we are all very pleased with! Instead of the teams doing all 3 meals for each day, we have switched things up.  So now the twins and Olivia take care of breakfast clean up, Kate and Noah do lunch, and Alix and Luke do dinner.  The kids think this is great! So you see how we have maintained our philosophy that the kids should be helpful and learn responsibility in the kitchen - but our approach for the way they are doing that has modified.

We don't have assigned jobs for the kids regarding most things. If they want to assign the tasks within their teams when they clean, they do. But our attitude has been that we all are blessed to be in this family together, so we all work together. I'll call different kids to set the table each night, or to run in and fold a couple of loads, or to take the trash out.  And although I try to mentally keep track and spread it out among them, we emphasize that there is no perfect "evenness" of effort.  Life will never be perfectly "fair”, and we want them instead to feel thankful.  Thankful they have healthy bodies and minds and can do the things that need to be done around a house. Thankful they are blessed with many sisters and brothers and can serve each other... and know the blessing of being served! :) We want them to have willing, obedient hearts no matter what they are asked to do.

We clean house on Saturdays - sometimes Friday afternoon if we have time.  I showed the kids the way I wanted them to clean the kitchen/bathrooms, vacuum, etc. when they were younger. When they were little, they all came with me with rags in hand and we worked together. Now they can do it without me.  We wipe down the kitchen and bathrooms, clean the toilets and wash the bathroom floors, take out trash, and vacuum. They take turns each week, deciding among themselves now and pairing up for the jobs they know need to be done.
Their rooms are their responsibility, and although we like them to be generally picked up by the end of the day, I don’t require everything in its place. I used to, but not anymore. So they help each other pick up toys and clothes.  But sometimes after a particularly busy day, I may find myself stepping over clothes that were tossed aside, or books strewn about, as I sit down to read to the little girls in their beds.  And it’s ok.  Even though I like things tidy, I’d rather spend time at night reading to them, then cleaning up.  I’ve realized that now is when they are my little babies, too soon they won’t be little anymore.

I've learned to alter my expectations of them, depending on age/experience, etc.  And although they work hard, they aren't going to do it exactly like I would.  And that's ok!  I just try to be part of the teams every couple of weeks so I can catch something they may have missed. 

Can I share a funny story with you about this?  One night after dinner, about 7 years ago, I remember feeling frustrated with poor 10 year old Luke.  He was using the shop-vac in the kitchen after dinner and I noticed he was missing what I thought were incredibly obvious crumbs! Probably on purpose! I began to point out the error of his ways to him, when Glenn stopped me and pointed out something *I* was missing.  I remember saying something like, "I don't think you care about those crumbs on the floor" to Luke.  And then Glenn gently said, "He's a 10 year old boy.  You're right, he doesn't care about the crumbs on the floor."  :) What a light bulb moment for me! How ridiculous I had been! I laugh right now as I think about it.
 
The kids are learning practical, helpful things about stewardship and responsibility as we teach them how to clean, and how to order things, etc. But their motivation for doing this is entirely different than mine!  They want to please me with their efforts. They really don't care about how many dangerous germs they have just removed from the bathroom. What matters to them is that I am happy with their efforts, and that God sees their obedience. So I try to remember to encourage them as they are working.  They love to hear words of praise, it makes them work even harder! Especially if I point out something specific they have done well, when they didn't realize I had noticed. And when we're finished with our Saturday chores, or preparing the house for company, I often call everyone to me and say something like, "Thank you for all your hard work!  I couldn't have done it without you! You've blessed me."  Even the big kids love to hear that.

Well, I was afraid I would have a hard time keeping this short!  And I was right! :)  I'm glad to share the things God has taught me with you, anytime you ask, Sandy. I'm learning every day myself.