She Has My Heart

At bedtime last night, I laid down next to Bean. I put my hand on her side, over her aqua-striped zebra pajamas, and let it rise and fall with her little breaths. Holding a sleeping child is one of my favorite mommy moments, but all I could think about last night was what is going to happen today. As I snuggled with my baby, and her heart beat under my hand, my thoughts kept coming back to the fact that there will be a time this morning when the surgeon has to stop that precious beating. I lay there wondering how other moms have managed to get through days like today.

When we read Bean's file and decided to say yes to adopting her, it was easy. Truly. We knew she had a pretty complicated unrepaired heart defect. We knew there were unknowns. Of course open heart surgery sounded scary, but it just made sense to make Bean part of our family. We earnestly desired another little one. (Li'l Miss and Daddy were both crossing their fingers for another girl.) Bean was waiting. She needed medical care we were fully capable of providing, and she wasn't getting the care she needed in her orphanage. See? Completely logical.

But all that was before. 

Before this girl let me see her smile.

Before I ever brushed her hair into tiny pigtails.

Before I heard her sparkly, oh-so-contagious giggle.

Before she broke Daddy's hard-and-fast No-Kids-In-Our-Bed rule. 

("Broke" is a definite understatement here. "Shattered", "destroyed", or "obliterated" would be a much more accurate verb choice. Like he often suggests we "just let her sleep with us tonight". People, who is this guy?)

Before I knew that this sweet face was hiding a whole lot of spunk with a big dash of ornery.

Before she was ours.

Before I never stopped to think, what if this is the last trip to the zoo or the last picture of all four of my kids or the last chance to hold my baby? What if this is the last kiss? I never squeezed family pictures into our crazy schedule because the idea of not taking one was just unthinkable. I never held onto every. single. day. with quite the same desperation because what if 51 days had to be enough?

It was easy before, but I'd be lying if I said it was easy now. Open heart surgery sounds like a thing. A surgeon cutting open my baby's chest and trying to fix her broken little heart sounds like something completely different. Cardiac care sounds necessary. Letting a nurse carry my tiny girl away from me, knowing she's about to be so scared and so in pain and so close to the line between life and death sounds impossible.

What Have I Done?

I have let myself fall recklessly, dangerously, and completely in love with Bean. I have let her blue little lips kiss mine and her blue little fingers wrap around my heart until there's no letting go. There's no more before. And even if there were, there's no undoing my crazy mama love for this tiny girl.

A long time ago, in what seems a bit like a dream, I used to believe that the good life was easy. I used to wish for the smooth road and the calm sea. But then God brought me peace beyond measure in the valleys. Then He gave blessings I could never have imagined while my heart was shattered. Then He taught me that the greatest beauty and the deepest love do not come without risk. And they are not easy.

And so I sit here in the Family Surgical Waiting Room while a doctor opens up my baby's chest and puts stitches into her itty-bitty heart. And I am thankful. Thankful that I've had the chance to fall over-the-moon, wreck-my-heart, crazy in love with Bean. Thankful for little arms that have squeezed my neck and a little voice that has wished me "nigh-nigh" and little fingers that have wrapped around mine.  Falling in love with this girl hasn't been easy or smooth or painless, but it has been beautiful. And it has blessed my heart beyond measure.

And here, right in the middle of crush-my-heart hard, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would do it all over again. Without a moment's hesitation, I'd say yes again. I'd choose to love this girl again. And whether I have one more day, or one more month, or one hundred more years to hold my Bean, she has my heart - totally, unabashedly, without a second's thought of before.

Heart Cath Day

Bean had her heart cath on Friday. She and I loaded up shortly before 9:00am and hit the road. I was a little nervous about the 2-1/2 hour drive because Bean wasn't allowed to eat. (Driving a stick while trying to stealthily drink a Frappucino with your left hand is not easy. Just FYI.) Thankfully, she fell asleep about halfway there and slept all the way to the hospital.

We registered at 11:30 and headed up to pre-op. We got through all the initial stuff (height, weight, getting into a gown, etc.) quickly. Unfortunately, they were running behind in the OR so we ended up with almost three hours to kill. In an effort to keep Bean's mind off of the food she wasn't allowed to eat, we got creative.

We took selfies...

...circled the unit about 214 times in this cute little car...

...and got hand sanitizer out of every. single. dispenser. on the floor.

Miraculously, we survived the wait without either of us having a meltdown. Just before 2:00pm, I got to meet briefly with the surgeon and the anesthesiologist. They were both super nice and very willing to answer questions. When it was time for Bean to go, the nurse wheeled her and lovie away in the little car. It went much more smoothly than I had imagined.

I had been told to expect the procedure to last 2-4 hours, but the doctor came out to meet with me after just over an hour. The results were very positive: Bean's left pulmonary artery is connected and most of it is a good size. There is a small area that is stenosed (constricted) and will have to be repaired during her surgery.

(On a nerdy side note, the doctor was able to show me video of the cath. He pulled up two views of Bean's pulmonary artery, and I got the watch the dye flowing up the cath and through her arteries. It was pretty incredible to see her little anatomy in action.)

Bean does have one defect that was not in her original medical records. It's a small duct attached to her aorta, called a PDA. From what I understand, this is a minor issue and will be easy to remove during her surgery on Tuesday. I will have more details about the surgery after pre-op tomorrow, but the doctors have talked to me about doing three things: removing her PDA, patching her VSD (a large hole between her left and right ventricles), and widening the opening to her left pulmonary artery.

I got to hold Bean for a few minutes in Recovery. She was already awake when I got there and pretty relaxed (probably thanks to the meds). She drank a little apple juice, and then we headed to the cardiac floor. Her she is, wrapped up in the adorable elephant blanket the nurse gave her.

By the time we got the floor, it was shortly after 5:00pm. The surgeon was hoping we'd be able to leave around 8:00pm. It was nice and quiet, and I got to hold Bean (and all her many wires). She drank tons of apple juice, nibbled on a grape popsicle, and then fell asleep in my arms for a long time.

Around 7:00pm, Bean's dinner arrived. She was not interested. She kept shaking her head and pushing the food away. The nurses said she needed to eat before we could go, so I continued to offer her food. She wanted nothing to do with it.

About five minutes later, Bean puked. This is probably TMI, but I think she puked about 7 gallons of apple juice dyed grape-popsicle purple. She was soaked. Her cute blanket was soaked. I was soaked. (Right about now I realized I shouldn't have left the overnight bag in the car.)

So much for going home at 8:00.

After Bean puked, her oxygen saturation levels started to get wonky. Her sats were at 74 when we checked in. They started dipping into the mid-60's. (For reference, normal saturation levels are 95-100. Bean's are usually in the 70's.) The nurse got worried and put her on oxygen for a bit.

From 8:00 - 10:00pm, we watched Bean's sats and tried to get her to eat a little so we could go home. She finally ate a little carton of ice cream and kept it down, but her sats kept dropping into the 60's. The doctor doing rounds said he wanted her sats between 75-85. Since she'd only been at 74 when we checked in, I felt he was being a little unrealistic.

Shortly after 10:00pm, the doctor finally came to see Bean. At this point her sats were in the low to mid-70's, so he decided she looked okay to go home. We went through the discharge process and headed to the car. We walked out of the hospital into a monsoon. Seriously. It was raining SO, SO hard.

The drive home could fill a whole other blog post. The short story is that we got home safely around 1:15am. Bean slept the whole way, while I tried to navigate the weather and ignore the fact that my underwear were still soaked in puke.

We are so thankful for the good news about Bean's heart. We head back to the hospital tomorrow afternoon for pre-op. Jeremy, Bean, and I will spend the night near the hospital, so we can head back Tuesday for surgery. I will post the details about the surgery as soon as I have them (probably tomorrow evening).

Thank you so much for your prayers, love, and support for Bean and our family. We appreciate it more than you know!

Just 7 More Days

Wow, our life has been a whirlwind since we got home last month. I have completely failed on my promise to post an update on Bean's heart. We are now just seven days from open heart surgery. Craziness! But I'll get to that in a minute. First, here's a little sneak peek into Month #1 as a family of six.

Last fall we booked a Florida vacation with an amazing organization called Pastors' R&R. Their mission is to provide time in a vacation home - free of charge - to families who serve in full-time Christian ministry. (If you're in a nostalgic mood, check out this post from our last vacay with Pastors' R&R. Li'l Miss looks ssssooooo tiny!) When we booked our vacation for this June, we thought we'd be starting our adoption at the beginning of this year (which we did) and traveling this fall (not so much). 

I have to confess that there were a few thousand times during our adoption process that I was 100% convinced we should just cancel our vacation. I was sure that it would end up falling right when we got approval to travel or right after travel or during Bean's surgery or...

On the other hand, Jeremy was 100% convinced that we should not cancel - that the time away would be really special for our family (and for Bean if she made it home before our trip). He was right; we had a blast. My younger sister, Jessica, even got to join us for part of the time. (She wins the Aunt-of-the-Year Award for braving the 17-hour trip in the back of the minivan. In the middle seat. Between two boosters. She's a rockstar.)

If I had to pick one picture to sum up our vacation, I think it would be this one.

Our kids made it into the water pretty much every. single. day.

They floated down creeks...

...splashed in the ocean...

...lounged by the pool...

...and hung out by some incredibly gorgeous springs.

We also made time for a little of this...

...and a whole lot of this.

(Why, yes, Bean has gained two pounds in the month she's been home.)

We were a little nervous about taking Bean somewhere new so soon after arriving home, but the intense together time turned out to be really special. Jeremy was thankful for the chance to be away from work to bond with our li'l sweetie. Bean showed her adventurous side and braved lots of new experiences.

All in all, it was a really fun time with just a dash of chaos and puking. I am super grateful we had the chance to make some special memories as a family before Bean has her surgery. On that note, here's a quick update on what's coming next for Bean.

This Friday afternoon, Bean will have a heart cath. During the cath, Bean's doctors will insert a catheter into a blood vessel in her thigh. They will thread the catheter up to her heart. This allows the doctors to do many different diagnostic tests on Bean's heart. They can test pressures and see detailed images of her anatomy. 

One of the main things they are looking for is a view of Bean's left pulmonary artery. They were unable to see this artery during her echo last month, so there is a chance it is not properly connected. (The doctor mentioned that it may be arising out of a duct.) Hopefully they can get a clear picture of this artery on Friday. If it is not there or is not connected properly, it will make her surgery more complicated.

Bean and I hope to come home Friday evening, but there is a chance we'll have to spend one night in the hospital. Jeremy, Bean, and I head right back to the hospital on Monday for pre-op. We'll meet with Bean's surgeon, learn the time of her surgery, and possibly have some final tests done. We'll spend the night near the hospital, and then Tuesday is surgery day.

Bean will be hospitalized for 5-14 days after her surgery. I should be able to post lots of updates while I hang out with her in the hospital. Jeremy is able to be at the hospital for pre-op and surgery, but then it'll be the girls (with lots of visits from friends, we hope) for a few days.

Please keep our sweet girl in your prayers as she faces a lot of big stuff over the next few weeks. It's definitely scary to think about what she'll be facing, but we know there are lots of people supporting her and lifting her up to the Lord. I'll leave you with one more Bean smile.