Friday, February 1, 2019

Ecstasy & Agony


When Matt, our oldest, was born, Marty sent out birth announcements with a little sketch of a baby and the words, “Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discourage of man.” A quote from a dude named Rabindranath Tagore, a Bengali artist.

I love this.

Well, it happened again, God gave the world another message, in fact God gave us a couple of messages. Our daughter Erin brought life, to not one, but two new baby girls.  They came roaring into the world January 10 at roughly 6:30p.m. 

It was, is, way cool.

I’m pretty sure Layla Bird is the oldest by about two minutes and then came Liza Lou.  They are healthy, hungry and home and despite the ensuing childhood illnesses befalling all those around them, they are eating, pooping, sleeping and growing, in short being infants.

The names, the middle names, are family names from my mother’s side.  My Mom is a Bettye Lou and her sister was Ebba Bird.  I really like the names, they go well with Lily Jewell and Lucy Jean.  They are Texas through and through and if they hang with me enough, they will talk like they are from west Texas, really, it’s quiet charming.

I was there on their birthday as a matter of serendipity.  We were at the lake and I had just texted Erin to say I was on my way to deliver some baby tools on loan from friends in Houston when she said it was good I was coming because she was on her way to labor and delivery.  Delivery occurred about 6 hours after my arrival.

I took Marty up to meet Layla and Liza the next day and she squirreled up enough courage to hold Liza.  Marty is always afraid she is not safe holding babies.  Not true mon Cheri, you are why these babies will always be safe, you showed us the way.
 
New children, new grandchildren are the perfect Ecstasy.


On Monday following that ecstasy Marty got sick, thus a little bit of agony.  We were at the lake when Marty clearly started spiraling down the “I’m gonna get sick” drain.  When she puked we knew it was time so we loaded ourselves and the dog in our vehicles and hot footed over to Providence in Waco.

This is one of those moments I had dreaded for a long time.  Marty getting sick that far away from our home hospital and having to make the decision to drive the hour and half to Waco or detour to Corsicana or Fairfield, both an hour closer.  I made the decision to get to Waco and so we rode, Marty tucked into the passenger seat of our van with her puke bucket and Nykkie, caregiver extraordinaire and the dog following in the truck.

As an aside and as a public service announcement, if you are planning an illness, wait for a few weeks because the hospitals are just nuts right now with flu and upper respiratory illnesses and there is coughing and hacking all over the waiting room, and that was just me and Marty.

It took about 3 hours for Marty to graduate from the lobby to an ER room.  Providence folks were smart though and had already drawn blood and done a chest x-ray so by the time we got back to the back we, they knew Marty was sick with and elevated white count (infection) and some cloudy areas on her chest x-ray.  We got to her room up stairs about 8 p.m., the first time we have been in the hospital since September of 2017. 

That’s awful for normal people, pretty good for those of us lined up in the health care aberration line.
 
That was a Monday, on Friday we made our way home.  Once home Marty got the obligatory shower and hair wash to rid herself of the hospital funk.  She was still a bit congested but free of any possibility of infection so home felt like, well home.

We spent the weekend doing regular stuff and on Tuesday following I drove to Dallas to see the new additions.  I had to see the two new messages from God, the two wonderful notions that God loves and shows us love and commands love.  I needed to see the antithesis of the week in the hospital, know that in spite of it all, it spite of the agony of brokenness, in spite of the anxiety of illness, in spite of the pain of watching illness, real ecstasy exists, real miracles occur.

PS….We went back to hospital two weeks later.






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