A reminder of a parent's love

Arthur puts on a brave face as
he waits to go in for surgery

This morning we took our little hero, Arthur, to the hospital to have his tonsils and adenoids removed.

Such a brave little soul - mom gave him a good preparation speech about what was going to happen at the hospital and we both have been telling him for days that the doctor would fix his breathing and snoring. We didn't go too deep into the sore throat after the surgery but we got him very ready for the actual trip to the hospital.

I've had to take my kids to the hospital a number of times - Arthur's near-death experience with the aspirating of breast milk into his lungs, Hope's near-death experience of swallowing a cowrie shell that lodged in her esophagus, Hope's grommet surgery, Arthur's broken leg - it's almost like second home for us but that never makes it any easier.

Today went smoothly at the beginning but while we were waiting in the main ward with the other parents whose kids were in ahead of ours, we started to experience the impending distress as one by one the other parents' kids were brought back from theatre, screaming, crying, wailing, and in a heck of a lot of distress. I sat quietly, observing the looks on the other parents' faces as they shifted from anxious waiting, to relief at seeing their kids, to frowns of despair and concern as their kids practically leapt into their embraces from the surgical gurneys.

The sounds in the ward quickly grew from anxious silence to horrendous weeping and wailing that resembled an emergency room after an earthquake. Such was the tumult in the ward that the emotion became too much for a mother sat next to us and she began to sob, even before her little girl was brought out to her.

Kat and I had an anxious wait for Arthur because he was forth in the queue from our doctor's surgery slate alone but when he finally was out of surgery it didn't take a moment for us to recognise his screams. The little boy was in such distress that he was fighting the vice grip of a little nurse who had given up on the idea of a gurney and was trying her best to race him to mommy before he erupted into absolute hysterics (which, by the sounds of things, was more or less achieved at that moment).

Arthur in mom's loving embrace

It took what felt like an eternity to get Arthur settled and the whole time he was sobbing and trying to stammer out all the things that were upsetting him (the blood in his nose, the drip in his hand, the pain in his throat, the loneliness of no mommy or daddy). During that period, while Kat was holding him tight, I yet again experienced the bittersweet emotions of being a dad.

My son was in anguish and there was practically nothing I could do to help him. I wanted to hold him but he wanted his mom. I felt his pain and his fears and I wanted to reassure him but he was in hysterics. I wasn't able to make the pain go away and I wasn't able to stop him crying and every time he let out a wail of misery I felt the full force of that desolation resounding in my soul.

Finally get some time with my little man

It's hard to describe unless you've ever been a father or a parent but for me I both love and hate those moments. I hate them because there's nothing I can do to make the moment less of a nightmare for my child as I share emotionally in each and every desolate moan.

But I also love those moments because it reminds me of a love that I have that I so easily lose sense of during the day-to-day monotony of trying to earn a salary and keep the house afloat. It's also at these moments that I have a brief reminder of what God must have felt like to effectively watch helplessly as his son died on the cross, or how God must feel each and every time one of us does something stupid that hurts or harms ourselves or others in the world. It's a sober reminder of what our love relationship is like between parents and children, and also of just how much God really loves each and every one of us and how massive a sacrifice it must have been for him, the one in total control and with the power to fix anything, to let go of the control and let things take their course...

It's the toughest moments that remind us of why we signed up to be parents in the first place and I wouldn't trade any of it for anything

Brave little Arthur wheeling his little sister out
a few hours after his surgery

...

Our family +1'ed ... explained

Okay, so I know it's been a long time since I updated this post and I know most people reading this already know the latest news but for posterity's sake, I am giving the full picture here - as a studious parent, I blogged my thoughts to myself and this is an abridged rendition of those thoughts.

I first learned that we were expecting another one (or more) on the weekend of the 22nd. Kat muttered something while I was half asleep about thinking she's pregnant.

I was kinda muted about my response but also very keen. We weren't 100% sure at that point so it was a 50/50 because the second line was so faint on the pregnancy test. I recalled last time around was similar so I was fairly sure it was a yes.

As the next few days passed it became more of an exciting reality (much moreso than the first time around) probably because I know what parenthood is like. Kat BBM'ed another test picture and confirmed the initial test and it was then official in my mind.

Am thrilled Hope will have siblings but also worried this will mean our poor little adorable girl will not get 100% of our attention, although I know she'll still get 100% of our love.

I suspect it's twins, a boy and a girl, but have no concrete knowledge of this. We shall wait and see. A little Jed and a little Joanna would be awesome ;)

On the 7th of February we had a big scare - Kat suffered some minor cramping on Sunday night as well as a small amount of spotting but it was more than enough to have us concerned. On Monday she experienced even more cramps and then after a while she felt absolutely fine - and that was the worst part. She didn't feel any of the usual symptoms of pregnancy - she felt 100% fine all of a sudden.

The emotions going through your head when you think you've just lost your baby are hard to describe. Although our baby was very new he / she had already become so very precious to us. We were scheduled for a scan on the following Monday but the painful wait was almost too much to bear especially because we wouldn't know what to expect when we have the scan.

Obviously the one thought that went through our minds is that the miscarriage is a response to a genetic anomaly and we may be getting a foretaste of the future attempts at having children.

No sooner had we settled on seeing the doctor the following week when the doctor phoned and told Kat to come immediately to his office and understandably that was more than just a little bit of a freak out for us.

We were braced for the terribly sad news that we had expected - in fact, the night before we had kind of already accepted (although not understood) the outcome. Where we expected to see a sac and embryo with no heartbeat we instead found, to our amazement, everything was fine and little Baby J was alive and "kicking".

The night before Kat read a verse that reminded us that God can resurrect people and even though we expected our child to be gone and don't know His plans, we still knew that there was a plan. What happened between then and the scan we can't say for sure but we ended up being very happily surprised!

I seriously expected to see an ultrasound with a still form with a silent heart. I felt totally shattered and unprepared. Instead, without any warning, the doctor showed us a 5.7mm life form with a beating heart and I just squeezed Hope tight and wanted to cry with relief. 

Unfortunately it wasn't the last scare we had - on the 10th Kat had some serious bleeding and Kat was told by the doc her progesterone levels were very low and she was a high risk for a miscarriage. She was exhibiting all sorts of miscarriage symptoms (sore back, bleeding [not spotting]) and after doing some reading on miscarriages etc. we started to wonder if perhaps this baby was genetically anomalous and this was nature's way of purging the non-viable baby. We were given the option of taking progesterone supplements to boost her levels and most likely preserve the pregnancy but we were struggling with what decision to make. Some family members were saying "let nature take its course" and we were afraid that our child may have serious genetic defects and we would be preserving their existence when normally they wouldn't survive. 

The moral dilemma for us was heavy on our hearts and we had the history with Hope weighing heavily on our decision. Should we do what we can to save this baby? Do we assume nature should take its course? It boiled down to one thing for me - if we knew this baby was 100% fine we would not hesitate to do whatever we could to save the baby; the fact that we are doubtful of his/her genetic composition, we are starting to consider alternatives. I decided that it shouldn't hinge on what-if's but that we would love our child regardless and as parents we should do everything to fight for our kid. In the end, with much concern and uncertainty, we decided to take the supplements.

A week went by and we had no knowledge of whether the supplement was working or not. We wanted to believe Baby J was still with us but we were resigned to the possibility that he/she had gone. It made enjoying the pregnancy a bit difficult with a hollow uncertainty hovering over us again. On the 20th Kat started to see old blood which meant she was still bleeding internally and we still had to wait until the Wednesday scan. Kat didn't feel at all pregnant and I just expected now to find a much more developed baby corpse. It was dreadful.

After we had our scan I left feeling totally dumbfounded and in shock (a good shock). Baby J was alive and well and we were going to have a baby!

The most amazing news to know that after all the early trials our baby was well on the way to growing healthy and strong and we were totally in awe of the blessings of another child and the journey we had gone on to get there. Still not knowing for sure if s/he had any genetic complications, the mere fact that s/he was alive was all that mattered.

Even more amazing news - and funny coincidences - were to follow soon after that...