A mama's fears

We experienced something last night that we' had not experienced yet as parents.   Lucas threw up in his bed.  Twice.   He didn't have a fever and he seemed to be okay afterwards, but I took him downstairs and slept with him to be sure.  Well, he slept.  I worried.  What a scary thing to not know what that sickness meant.  Was he getting a stomach bug?  Did he eat something bad, or just eat too much?  Was he sick with something worse?  Would I get sick, too, and if I did, how would I best care for him?  Thankfully, I'm still feeling fine, and he seems to be okay.  He's had apple juice, one bite of toast, and is now eating Cheez Its.  (No judgments, please.  I asked him if he were hungry and what sounded good.  If he wants "cheezy crackers" he can have them.)  Anyway, when I was a kid, I hated being sick to my stomach.  Still do.  That 18 weeks of nausea with my pregnancy  with Lucas (though WELL worth it) are still some of my least favorite weeks in my memory.  I was surprised that I handled the immediate situation rather calmly and very compassionately.  I was a good mom last night and I was happy about that.  But after he fell asleep, I was the worried mom.  I couldn't sleep for fear that he'd be sick again or that I wouldn't be able to help him.  I think that was the worst of it.  I felt helpless to take care of my baby boy.  I kept saying my Gram's/Momma's phrase of, "Oh, honey, it's no fun, is it?" But I think it was even less fun for me.  He was miserable and scared.  So was I.  (Also, I should say that Daniel was great about taking care of the sheets and stuff while I cleaned up and comforted Lucas.  He was a good dad last night, too.)  I'm thankful the worst of it seems to be over and he seems to be his normal self again.  We pray for Lucas' good health every night and we'll continue to do so.  Being sick is no fun.

So, what else is there to report?  I haven't written about this yet, but our profile was sent last week to one of Bethany's offices in Indiana for a birthmom to see.  She got profiles on Tuesday (she got "a couple") and she is still making her decision.  She is expecting a baby boy due on Christmas day.   There's only one thing that makes me nervous. 

There is a 25% chance this baby boy could have Leigh's Disease.  It's a complicated thing with no cure, but basically it is a disease of the mitochondria.  The mitochondria are the part of our cells that produce our energy.   Leigh's Disease inhibits the mitochondria from producing/providing energy to the cells, which can cause seizures, decreased muscle tone, etc.   The prognosis is poor.  Symptoms can start showing up between 3 months and 2 years old.  Something like a cold can induce the symptoms to start showing.  Or something like a fluke stomach bug like Lucas had last night.  Once symptoms show, there's no telling how much time the child has left, but most with Leigh's Disease don't live to their teen years.

We decided to say yes to being considered for this situation because we know that this baby boy will need love and a family.  For however long God will allow him to live.  And, frankly, as morbid as this might be, we have to acknowledge that that's true of Lucas, too.  We would be devastated to have something happen to him, but we trust God for his safe keeping and health every day.  And that's how we'd have to look at it if this baby boy came to our family, too.  That, and we'd pray (and are praying) fervently that he will be healthy and that he won't have any issues at all.    And that's the thing:  all we can do is pray because it's still not known what gene this disease is linked to, so there's no way to test now or once he's born if he's positive for it.  Maybe that's better, maybe not.  We'd just begin and end every day praying and praising God for the time He'd given and continued to give. 

And you can pray, too, for his health and for wisdom for his birthmom as she looks at the profiles she has and chooses the right family for her baby.