The Fog 23 Dec
What started as a labor of love took a sharp and unexpected turn.
In the beginning, our baby failing one of the routine infant screening seemed the least of our worries. This little person was coming home with us. Fourteen hours of labor and now… He was ours.
It was probably just fluid in the ear canal…anyway.
In a few short weeks, we would have to return for what we thought was the green light: all clear. In the meantime, we attempted to manage to care for our pint-sized roommate.
Feed. Change. Sooth. Repeat. Nipple creams, diaper creams. Oh my.
After many parents-of-a-newborn sleepless nights, the day arrived. Simply nurse this crying, pooping machine to sleep; a Nonchalant informed us he must hold perfectly still for at least an hour to get accurate readings.
Sweat beaded down my back while trying to perform this task, stuck to the giant leather recliner that was designated for the infants.
Those in this department had seen this done many times. For us, it was like entering a foreign country, unable to speak the language.
My new mommy arms throbbed while turning numb, but he was finally in a slumber.
I. Wasn’t. Moving.
Perfect. I had to pee.
Censors were placed on his scrunched-up, tiny little forehead. I studied his baby acne and perfect heart-shaped lips; while struggling to keep the miniature earbuds, wires leading to god-knows-where, inserted into his squishy, little ears. Our bodies mushed. Drenched.
Please don’t wake. I prayed.
The Nonchalant took her place behind the glass. Frozen. We waited.
Then. The Room. The cold space no parent wants an invitation to enter. Nonchalant said he failed.
Dr Lab Coat said his loss was severe to profound, he would get hearing aids, maybe be a candidate for a cochlear implant, and probably go to mainstream high school.
What? High school? Profound? A candidate for…
Follow-ups were scheduled with ENT’s, audiologists, geneticist, and intervention specialists.
We bundled him up and headed out to battle Cleveland’s lake-effect snow. We wandered.
Where was that stupid car? We searched the maze of a city-like sized parking garage at this city-like sized hospital.
When we arrived hours earlier, we had no idea. This.
The roommate was clipped in. We sat. Staring straight ahead…there were no words.
And in that single morning, the journey of navigating through the fog began.
NancyPosted at 02:32h, 29 December
Keep it up…you are an amazing writer.
Chris gideonsPosted at 06:00h, 29 December
My wife is a ROCK! Tougher than any Marine…
AlPosted at 15:54h, 29 December
Nice! Awesome story, can’t wait to read more…
Emma FisherPosted at 00:56h, 07 January
I love you, and love your writing! Keep it up xo
valligideonsPosted at 05:43h, 07 January
Thanks love! Xo
valligPosted at 19:36h, 08 February
Thanks my love.
ShelleyPosted at 18:37h, 07 January
I remember sitting down with you during our “nanny interview”…and thinking about how awesome our God is! That he cares so much about every detail of our lives, and supplies our every need! Oh how my heart hurt for you…knowing full well the journey you were embarking on was going to life-changing!
What an inspiration you have been each step of the way for so many, you are amazing!
Love to you all!
valligideonsPosted at 19:39h, 07 January
Thanks Shelley. You truly were a blessing in our lives. One of few people; early on, who reminded me what a special boy Battle was. So much more to share on how you and your family impacted us amd led us to Christ!
CyndiPosted at 01:51h, 08 January
valligideonsPosted at 02:50h, 08 January
valligPosted at 19:36h, 08 February
KrisPosted at 03:39h, 01 June
And you are an amazing writer, too!? I miss you girl!
Beth WikPosted at 13:06h, 05 February
Never a doubt in my mind that you would rise up with strength and love! Unexpected journeys can lead to great places!
valligPosted at 19:35h, 08 February
Thanks Beth! That means A LOT coming from you. Miss you, my friend.
The Fog | Her View From HomePosted at 11:08h, 23 July
[…] This piece originally appeared at MyBattleCall.com […]