Yep, I used a cliché with a twist and I could throw in "It takes a village..." but I won't. Not in its entirety. This past week has wracked my nerves and it is really my own fault. I let it. Little jellybean wheezed and sounded congested and Bam! The anxiety level in my body shot up off the charts.
The oxygen did have to be turned up but then it got turned back down but then back up again and then down. Yesterday, I really, really, really just wanted to go to church but I was afraid. Fear of getting the little guy out and going back to the hospital was freezing me up. Then it hit me, "If he is already getting sick, there is nothing you can do. Go to church."
Thankfulness that I did overwhelmed even the biggest feeling of being disconnected and an alien because it had been so long that I had been there. It was a beautiful message from 1 Thessalonians. A message that my heart, mind, and spirit needed. But what to do about that awful worry?
Everyday the oxygen concentrator sighs like an exasperated mother and the pulse oximeter beeps sporadically like some wild jazz tune with no real beat while the feeding pump whines quietly in between it all and the worry about going back to the hospital was louder than all of it. I heeded its call to diligently use the "magic" inhaler and trust that it would keep the hospital away. And if that didn't work, use the other inhaler, too, plus the nose drops. Yes, the nose drops! They would surely work. Then my own theories - maybe he needs to work with less oxygen as much as possible so that his lungs "learn" to work better or maybe he needs more oxygen so his body can rest and heal.
So sad. See how easily I fall off the track?
Maybe the only thing I needed to do was stopping trying to control it so I did. I came home from church and threw out the worry. Yes, I am giving jellybean his meds as prescribed and no, I haven't quit keeping tabs on his oxygen. The difference is I stopped believing (for the moment any way) that any of those things are the answer. So my sweat level has changed and the only small stuff I am paying attention to is the blessings I can count.
God must have wanted me to test out my faith because it was a hard night of crazy oxygen dips and coughing and crying (not me this time). Before midnight the little guy was back up to his half liter of oxygen that we had weaned down from over a week ago. This time I prayed and trusted that God knew what He was doing even if we went back to the hospital.
This morning was a new day. Jellybean awoke with his "goo" babble and when I peeked at him, he squirmed with excitement and the biggest smile. Strangely, his oxygen has been able to be turned down to less than a quarter liter and he is the happiest of campers right now.
Hmmm, I wonder what caused him to change so quickly? Not one single thing in my power, this much I know.
I will say to the L, “My refuge and my fortress,my God, in whom I trust.” - Psalm 91:2
You can't trust a preemie, especially a 24-weeker, but you can always trust in the LORD.