Fearfully Optimistic

April 1st, 2013

     Lily is doing better this morning. There I said it, and I am going to allow myself to believe it.  Allow me to explain.  Back and forth we've gone in the last 5 days.  In between periods where Lily seems to be doing well, and we start to think things are improving, and then horrible ordeals where she crashes.  Then, suddenly, we are convinced she won't make it through the night. To use the cliche' of "it's been an emotional roller coaster", doesn't come close to illustrating the emotional beating we receive every time it happens.  Yesterday morning started with one of these episodes, probably the closest call since her first few hours in the hospital.  Heather was convinced, all morning, that Lily wouldn't make it through the day. She continued to labor with her breathing all throughout the morning, and we continued down the emotional road of believing this was our last day with her. But, she finally started to level out around 11:00am and we went on to have a really good day.  She started breathing more regularly, and started to show signs of appetite.  Heather, who had been working with her so very diligently for days, finally started getting some real success with feeding her with an oral syringe.
      By late last night into early this morning, (keep in mind we don't really sleep these days,) the conversation started to turn toward the optimistic.  And we started to get really scared.  Scared of the the pain, you see, because to begin allowing yourself to have optimism means setting yourself up for even greater disappointment and loss.  Is that weird?  It's just how we felt/feel.  As soon as the words start coming out of your mouth that speak of any kind of future like; "maybe if she keeps doing better, she can...", suddenly the dooming reality of Lily's condition comes popping out, right in your face, like one of those cardboard cutouts of a menacing bad guy that gun ranges use to train cops. (Sorry I watch a lot of movies. They probably don't even really use those things. But, I digress).  The truth is that even those conversations hurt so very badly.  Much less the reality of going through these ups and downs.  So the question becomes; do we allow ourselves to be optimistic?  Or do we continue to guard our selves in order to temper the pain when our worst nightmare finally becomes reality? Then we look at our daughter.  Lily Belle is so incredibly gorgeous, and she has a way of drawing you in.  She gives you such a great blessing,  just by looking at her.  True beauty does this to us, whether it is music, nature, or art.  And Lily is truly a great work of art, sculpted by the most skilled artist that ever existed,  The  Creator.  And let me testify to you, that He really outdid Himself on this baby girl. The conclusion Heather and I come to is this: it is definitely worth it to be optimistic.  It helps us to become vulnerable, so that we can fully enjoy and appreciate Lily while she is here.  There will come a time, maybe very soon, maybe not as soon, when we will have nothing left to feel, but mourning.  We have decided to do our best to hold off those feelings until the appointed time.  Needless to say this is an extremely difficult concept to put into practice, and we fail multiple times everyday.  But, Heather and I are helping each other to cope by back-and-forth reminding each other "not yet sweetheart, she's still here".  The overall point is that, the risk is worth the reward.  Why should we allow fear of disappointment rob us of the opportunity to fully experience love and beauty? I think we shouldn't.  The situation for us is kind of intense and extreme due to the circumstances.  However, I think there is a message in it that can apply to nearly all the relationships in our lives.  
     Every day we tend to let cynicism prevent us from allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to other people.  The risk that we take, when we attempt to place trust in people, is often too great for us to actually do it.  And although we may not want to admit it, the truth is, we are simply afraid of getting hurt.  As a result, we ourselves tend to become the offenders.  By keeping people at arms length, and always super protecting ourselves by pushing people away.  Sometimes we let ourselves become the ones who downright mistreat others.   Ironically, it is because we don't want them to get close enough to mistreat us.  The truth is,  people are inherently selfish.  And nearly everyone is capable of failing you.  In fact, they inevitably will.  That's right everyone WILL fail you at some point or another, just like inevitably Lily WILL leave us someday.  It may even be today.  We must learn to accept this, and say: I will love people anyway.  Just as we have said we will love Lily Belle, completely, anyway.  It won't be easy, in fact I find it is impossible for me.  It requires my Savior's help.  It is not my strength, but His, that enables me to say:  I will accept the pain that comes with being optimistic.  I will endure the heartache that comes with loving someone who is no more perfect than I am.  It is not I, but Christ who strengthens me, that makes this possible. (Phillipians 4:13).

     So here we are this morning, feeling optimistic about Lily Belle.  We are going to have the nurse hold off on the feeding tube, and try to continue to feed her orally.  We have used less oxygen in the last 24 hours, and we are excited about that.  We are looking at Lily right now with great expectations.  It is wonderful, and we are so scared.  Heavenly Father give us strength. Thank you Lily Belle, for helping dad this morning, to learn how to love you, and others, more fully.

-Brian (Lily Belle's Dad)