Fallen head over heals in love with the PICU

I love the PICU. And especially this one. Yes, we are in the third world. Yes, there is indeed a horrific shortage in resources. And yes, there is so much more education that could be done here amongst staff. But oh, they love so well. And they have taught me so much about how to be a PICU nurse over these last few days. 

Most moments are well controlled. Vent settings are as they need to be and babies are resting. It's quiet. But when you know what hits the fan, it hits hard! Babies turn blue. Alarms go crazy. All of us start scrambling. And most times, a few minutes later- things are calm again. And we get back to focusing on loving babies and families. 

I haven't spent a ton of time in a PICU before this, but I've picked up very quickly that the most important part of anyone's job here is to love well. To love each other well, the patients well, and the families well. 

There are things here that terrify me. Like when they didn't have the right size AMBU bag mask for Daniel- or any other infant for that matter. But there's one thing that does not at all terrify me, and it's the ability for these people to love other people. Which is beautiful. Because that's the first and foremost thing we are called to do, to love God and love others. 

When we first got here I didn't care to know much of who or what was going on around outside of Daniel. He was so unstable that I wasn't focusing any attention on anything but his vitals, breathing, and suctioning needs. After we got through the scary 24 hours, I was able to breath myself and I quickly joined into the community that I am surrounded by. There's an ICU doctor and resident always here. Then an average of about 3-4 nurses that swap out every 6 hours. I have gotten to know each of them well. They have been so welcoming of me being here and serving alongside them has been such a blessing. The doctors take me up to lunch everyday and the nurses are constantly feeding me some delicious dessert or drink. I'm spoiled. 

In an intense environment like this, you become a family quickly. And even though I look different and definitely speak differently, they have brought me into this family of theirs. 

In the last few days I have gotten to share in both the very dark moments and joyful moments with many patients and their families here. When things are bad, they are bad. But when things are good, oh boy are they good! When a baby gets extubated we all rejoice. When IVs, drains, and lines slowly come out as the days go on- we throw a little party for each. When a baby starts taking in formula and food PO again, we really know things are headed in the right direction. When a mother gets to hold her child finally after it's been days or even weeks- we all look up at each other and exchange sweet smiles. I didn't realize how much of a blessing this would be to share in these things from either end of the spectrum. 

As Daniel has become more and more stable and as I've gotten to know the staff better, I've been able to see where I can jump in to help with other babies. They welcome the extra set of hands and the magnitude of all that I'm learning is incredible. Daniel is also spoiled. He has me here with him as much as he pleases. Other babies get an hour or two a day with their parents- maybe. So now that my little guy is doing so much better, I'm able to stretch my arms to the babies around me who's parents aren't here. 

Yesterday a baby was brought after a complex open heart surgery. Even more complex than Daniel's. By the looks of him and his monitors, I could quickly see he wasn't doing well. He was in hypovolemic shock and wasn't stabilizing with fluids or blood on board. I prayed and prayed. Texted some friends to pray. This baby had no one here and I was fearful he was going to die. So as Daniel slept, I stayed by this other baby's bedside. Held his hand and stroked his hair. We squeezed the bags a little harder and continued to watch his numbers go in worsening directions. When I left last night I was not hopeful. 

This morning I got here and the staff joyfully came to tell me "el bebe is mejor!" He had finally stabilized and turned the corner. Our little PICU family had so much to be thankful for! I still haven't seen any parents around for this baby. I pray he has someone at home that loves him. But I can confidently say that while he is here- he is being loved well. 

The surgeon came by this morning to say we wouldn't be leaving the PICU today. Daniel's ejection fraction was a little lower than he would have liked and when they stopped his cardiac drugs, he didn't respond quite as well as he needed to. Things you can pray for, definitely. But nothing we are distraught over. And to be perfectly honest, I'm completely okay with another day in this PICU. With this staff, these babies, and these mommas. 

When I do see the other moms for that hour a day, I love chatting with them. Most of them know the situation with Daniel and I, and they are all amazed by how God has provided- as am I. They also know I'm here all day, so I make sure they know when they are gone, their baby is loved and attended to. 

A little while ago I was feeding one of the other babies when his grandmother came in to see him for the first time since surgery. She immediately began to cry over her sweet grandson. I continued to feed him and she prayed over him. Probably one of my sweetest moments here. I comforted his Abuela and assured her that her grandbaby was doing wonderfully. As I continued to feed him, she continued to pray. And it was so so beautiful. 

To be a PICU nurse, you have to be intelligent, a critical thinker, and operate well under extremely high stress, but most importantly you must love. As Christians, the Bible tells us the exact same thing. 

1 Corinthians 13 says this, "And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have  all faith, so as to remove mountains, but I have not love, I am nothing."

This is so much of what I'm learning- both as a nurse and in my walk with Jesus. I love how The Lord has paralleled this truth for me in plain sight in my work in a PICU in a developing country. I knew God would do be things during my time here, but right now I can barely utter how amazed I truly am by His grace and willingness to teach us. 

Running the race and riding the roller coaster of the PICU

The last few days have pretty much just run together. The pediatric ICU is definitely the most intense roller coaster ride I've ever embarked on. Then we can take into account that this isn't a pedi ICU. It's just an ICU. There's few nurses for MANY patients, and resources are lacking. 

Friday morning, right before surgery, things happened very quickly. I had imagined this horrific emotional hand off of the baby to the OR team. But it all happened so quick that I didn't have time to remember to be anxious or to even shed a few tears. And then the surgeon popped around the corner..."you're coming into the OR with me right!?" Uh. Yeah. I guess! He had causally mentioned this the day before but I wasn't entirely sure if he was being serious or not. I decided if things started going terribly wrong I could step out if needed, so I went. 

And it was INCREDIBLE! I was quite impressed with the OR team. They really did know what they were doing. And this surgeon was the nicest guy I have ever met. He walked me through the whole procedure. Taught me more than I will probably ever learn in just a few hours, and laughed and made jokes just like every sarcastic OR team I've ever been around. I had this overwhelming peace the entire time. And then came the moment where they turned off bypass and we watched, anticipating his heart to begin to fill- and it did! No problem! The monitor went from asystole to normal sinus rhythm in seconds. It was beautiful. The hard part was over and we could all breathe again. Daniel had a hole-free, and beautifully pumping heart. Oh, how God's creation is so miraculous. 

We went from the OR straight to ICU. This is where I buckled my seat belt for the roller coaster. Nothing at six flags could top the adrenalin rushes that would ensue over the next 24 hours. 

I have been extremely blessed to be allowed to stay at his bedside 24/7 as I would like. Normally family can come visit for 1-2 hours a day. But the surgeon and ICU doctor were more than happy to let me stay at his bedside. As I said, the staff is already so stretched thin. 

The majority of the time I have sat back and just constantly watched the monitors. Paying attention to every jump, every trend, doing all the things my sweet and experienced ICU friends gave me a crash course in before coming. Most of the time he has been completely stable. But when he crashes, he crashes hard and fast! I've learned that babies have almost no reserve. He would drop his sats from 100% to 40% or even less in no more than 5 seconds. He turns this scary blue/purple color and his BP just sky rockets. This has happened probably 8 times thus far. Mostly while he was still intubated. 

Again, thanks to my friends and my hospital's NICU manager at home that sent me with an infant AMBU bag...I was able to react quickly and appropriately for the first few seconds until the staff could get to the beside. And while on the outside I was calm and would transition into nurse mode in these moments, on the inside I was crashing myself. His heart is still very fragile. We have seconds to reverse these respiratory episodes before much bigger trouble ensues. So those couple minutes of getting him back feel like an eternity. By the end of Friday I felt as though I had run multiple marathons, but in reality I hadn't physically walked even a mile. 

But this is the pedi ICU. This is what my friends say it's like. It's a hard place to work. And it's an even harder place to have a kid in. I've mentioned my cousins who's baby was diagnosed with leukemia a few years ago. Their little boy is as healthy as any 5 year old today, but boy do I remember every moment of the year he was in the hospital. I've been in this ICU for a few days and Daniel was only intubated for 24 hours, but gosh I was itching to get that tube out and just asked the doctor how much longer he thinks we will be here. My cousins did this for months!! Their baby was intubated for weeks. They were told their son wouldn't survive. Now that I have been in a teeny tiny itty bitty bit of the same shoes they walked, I look back at that year and have a whole new perspective of all that God did. His grace, His love, the endurance He provided day in and day out. I'm learning so much about our God's character through this journey and as I look back at what He has done in my life, in my family's life, in the past.  

There really is no comfort like the arms of our Father. There's no other place I desire to rest. There's no other place I can draw my strength from. And when I try to look elsewhere, I only grow more weary. 

We are two days post op and Daniel is doing well. Sleeping a lot, but when he does wake up I have to do everything in my power to keep him calm. When he starts to cry, he drops his sats and can't recover without some level of intervention at this point. 

This has been a roller coaster ride like no other. It's been the most difficult, yet rewarding adventure The Lord has ever allowed me to be part of. In a week from now I'll be on a plane back home. I haven't processed through that much though. Right now I'm merely soaking up every last moment I have left with this sweet face. 

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Actually, less than 12 hours from now. Everything we have been praying and preparing for. It's tomorrow.

Today has been rather surreal. I first trekked across town to go to the blood bank to donate the blood for his surgery tomorrow. Crazy that that is how it is done here. Actually, not only that, but we also have to go pick the blood up ourselves and bring it to the hospital for the surgery. But I guess they always know they are going to have blood for their patients this way. On the way there I prayed for three specific things…that I wouldn't pass out, that someone there would speak some english, and that I would see an obviously clean needle being used. A guy was rattling off a lot of questions that I was doing my best to answer. Of course when he asked, "Do you do dugs?" (in Spanish)…I didn't quite understand him and hesitated for a looooong time. Fortunately he figured the bewildered look on my face had to do with a lack of understanding, NOT because of street drug habits. He then began speaking in english- thanks God! When I went into the room to donate I closely watched everything being done. A huge sigh of relief came over me when I saw (what looked like) a brand new needle coming at my arm- thanks God! Last time I gave blood, and the time before that, and the time before that, I passed out at the very end of it. I'm always borderline anemic and borderline size eligible for donating, so it isn't odd that this happens. But I really did not want this to happen here, today, in Bolivia. And it didn't- thanks God!

Afterwards, I navigated myself back to the hospital. The looks I get walking around the streets of Cochabamba are hilarious. My blonde hair doesn't help. I can see the thoughts most people are having…does she realize where she is…maybe she's lost…should we help her? 

This afternoon a lot starting happening. Residents, nurses, and other staff kept coming in with consents to be signed and things to tell me about surgery tomorrow. I have learned that being white does not make people assume you do not speak spanish. So here they all came, with their in depth spanish explanations of surgery and tomorrow's process. But God is faithful, and I understood them.

As I started to grow more anxious throughout the day, I decided to cope with netflix. But the baby was not having it. No afternoon nap and was fussy on and off. Not long into my attempt at a movie, I put it on pause and just played with him. That's all he wanted. And it was exactly what I should have been doing to start with. Praying and praising God while playing with the baby- not watching a stupid movie. So that is what we did today. Played, and sang, and cuddled lots. Realizing today was probably going to be the last day I get to hold and bounce him on my knee without wires and tubes all around us. Bittersweet. I teared up frequently today. Both happy tears and sad tears.

Just a little bit ago, a white woman in scrubs poked her head in the door. We spoke to each other a little in spanish but pretty quickly I said, "habla ingles?" She's from Chicago. Yep, she definitely habla ingles. Turns out she was the coordinator from the organization, Solidarity Bridge. They are the ones that are making this entire surgery possible. I knew there was someone, somewhere pulling this all together, but I didn't know details. Well all those details came together when this sweet woman, Jodi, walked into our room. This organization partners with hospitals in Bolivia and Paraguay to provide the medical resources and finances needed for invasive surgeries such as these. I thanked her endlessly. We chatted awhile and I had the opportunity to share with her my connections and the ministry of Casa de Amor. Love when the Lord ties two ends of a story together like this. She then reassured me that his surgeon is the best in Bolivia. He was educated and trained in Belgium, and is absolutely incredible. What a blessing to hear this first hand from someone who has worked with him for years.

Friends, you have faithfully prayed for weeks and weeks now over this boy and entire situation. What a joy it has been to watch God reveal His plan and hear our prayers. So with that, we can rest in the outcome of tomorrow. Because God is good. He is ALWAYS good.

How deep the Father's love for us

We are officially back in the hospital. But this time it is a good thing. Thursday morning is surgery, and I am this strange mix of excited and terrified. Excited because this means the child has a chance at life. He has a chance of being adopted into a loving family. He has a chance to grow and become an incredible man of the Lord. But I am also terrified. Terrified that this baby that I love is about to have his chest cracked open for major open heart surgery. Terrified because at home this operation it fairly routine- here it is a HUGE deal. Terrified because I have had endless conversations with pedi ICU friends who have prepped me a great deal of what to do when X, Y, or Z goes wrong.

So I sit here this morning in this hospital room going back and forth between these two emotions. But there's one truth that does not ever leave my mind…oh, how deep the Father's love for us.  

I cannot even fathom it, really. For a month I have stepped in to be the mother to a child without one. An opportunity I never would have imagined and one that fell into place very quickly. Since I have had this baby 24/7 for a few weeks now, I have come to know him, his personality, and his needs quite well. And he knows me. When he wake up, he reaches for my face to notify me that he's done sleeping. If I lay him on the bed and walk away to do something, he gives me about 15 seconds before he's going to scream out and make sure I haven't forgotten about him. When he sees that I am making a bottle, he starts kicking his legs about 100 miles per hour, as if it's going to get himself to his food faster. When he's done with his baby food, he communicates that by spitting back in my face what I first put in his. When he's tired he starts pulling his hair. The most soothing thing to him is to suck on the tags to his blankets and lovie (glad I didn't cut those off!) When he's sleepy he takes his pacifier great. When he's not it is more of a chew toy and something to make me play fetch with. He gets real excited about one of his rattle toys and tends to bonk himself in the face with it. His left pointer finger is our middle of the night life saver- if he puts it in his mouth, back to sleep we go! He HATES to have a dirty diaper. I mean, who would? But he is very prompt in letting me know when he has finished his business. 

I know this boy. I love him deeply. But the Lord knows him more. And the Lord loves him even deeper. Scripture tells us that the Lord knows the number of hairs on our head. He knows the number of days we will be on this side of heaven. He created us. He knows everything about us. Making his love for us unfathomable. The more I have gotten to know Daniel, the more I have grown to love him. When I put that into perspective of how much the Lord knows about me, how much he knows about Daniel- it magnifies our Father's love so much more. 

And it's that deep, steadfast love that allowed me to come to Bolivia. It's that love that overflows from our hearts, as believers, that we are called to spill over into the lives of others. And it is that same love that I cling to when moments are hard, when I am exhausted, when I am frustrated with my Spanish, and when I am rejoicing in all that God has done thus far. When our trust is placed in God's love for us, when that is the cornerstone of all we know and do, then no matter the storm that blows- we have peace.

When you look at the big picture of how this all came together, God's love shines through brighter than I have ever seen. It started with a faithful woman who moved her life to Bolivia at 20 years old. Over 10 years later she has an orphanage with 4 houses and tons of kids being loved by those who love the Lord. Now transition over to my life. I grew up going to a Christian summer camp. My last summer, I had a counselor- then she was Kayla Stewart. It was the beginning of a very sweet friendship. Years later, she is married and she and her husband obediently responded to God's call in their life to also move to Bolivia. Around that time, my best friend draws my attention to a medical missions organization. I then go with a team to Cambodia for a few weeks. I return home ready to go somewhere again. Kayla and her husband are in Bolivia- what if I stayed with them and served at a hospital near by? Long shot, but maybe! God paved the way and I got to work at a Bolivian hospital for a week in March. One day while here I am asked if I want to visit a baby orphanage…of course! The baby in my arms this moment was the first baby I held at Casa de Amor, having no idea what was next. His health situation unfolds. I cancel my trip to Haiti for May. I then get put in touch with so and so through so and so through so and so, and all of a sudden I am back in Bolivia, sharing in the joy of caring for this little one. 

Oh, how deep the Father's love for us. So many people working together within the Body of Christ that didn't even know it. And now a child has a shot at life. I love imagining the grand things the Lord is going to do to use this boy to build His kingdom! And what is so incredible is that the Lord is weaving together beautiful stories such as this one, constantly. There's never a moment that our God is not doing miraculous things. Our perspective is simply dependent of how faithfully we are walking with our Father.

As we sit and wait and wait and wait, I have had so much time to just be still with the Lord. In prayer, worship, and in the word. I am learning that it is when we sit in silence is when we hear His voice the loudest. And right now He is teaching me a lot about how deep is love for us truly is. 

"He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouts of joy." Job 8:21

What a week. Not sure I've seen The Lord move so quickly and so mightily as I have this week. Monday we got home from the hospital. I was struggling to get him to take 2ish ounces every three hours. We saw the pediatrician who was iffy about surgery being next week. We moved into the girls house Monday night and we both crashed. I was so thankful to have him home, but also quite overwhelmed by the insane medication schedule, the amount of weight he needed to gain and the logistics of getting surgery scheduled. I knew to immediately surrender every last detail to The Lord. I was so inadequate for this job. 

Tuesday I was taught how to crush and mix his cardiac medications. Kinds of meds you don't want to give anything but the perfect dose of, and I'm mixing it myself. Fantastic. First time I was actually thankful for all those drug calculation tests in nursing school. 

Wednesday we went back to the pediatrician. We also had another volunteer from the states arrive. She grew up in Cochabamba. I quickly put her Spanish and knowledge of the city to work. She's been a huge blessing to Daniel and I! So Wednesday the pediatrician was still iffy about giving us the green light to go back to the cardiologist. He decided to put us on more meds instead. Great. Because 18 different times that I'm medicating the kid throughout the day already isn't enough. But I really trusted this doc and I trust The Lord so I took the additional prescriptions and went on. At this point I was getting him to take a pretty consistent 4 ounces every few hours so we needed more formula. I passed by some baby food and decided what the heck- I'll try any kind of calories at this point. His weight had not changed since Monday. I had envisioned this moment of me putting him on the scale and him being a half a pound bigger. I would then feel like super mom and we'd get surgery scheduled. But none of that happened. We went back home and continued to wait. 

By Thursday I had this kid in a solid routine. I have learned that if I'm tired then I need to sleep when the baby sleeps. Because he's in control of the sleeping hours and it being dark outside may mean nothing to him in regards to bed time. He had become quite the prince at this point. Always wondering where I am and what I'm doing. If I left the room without him on my hip- the prince was not happy. So I'm potentially turning him into a bratty American baby. But heck, the 7 months of life this child has been to, I'd give him whatever he wants forever and forever. 

So today. Friday. We got up to yet again go see the pediatrician. I listened to his lungs the night before and they sounded clear as a bell to me. I was anxious to get him back to the pedi today. By the time we got there, the pedi had already taken the initiative to call and speak with the surgeon- such a blessing! So the green light was given and we were scheduled to be at the cardiology clinic at 5:00 for an appointment. Yeah, 5:00 on a Friday for an appointment. Bolivia is so weird. So we got there and I noticed we were seeing a cardiologist- not the cardiovascular surgeon that was going to be operating. That made me a little upset, but I took and a deep breath and decided to behave in the waiting room. 

The cardiologist called us into his office. Two white girls in their early 20s and a Bolivian baby. You could tell he was a little bewildered. He immediately asked if we had money to pay for this surgery. First question!! Um, yes we do. How? Because we serve an incredibly faithful God! Anymore questions? He precedes to look at the schedule. "I'm sorry, we cannot do surgery until June 16." GELDIWGWNFJEEQOWYRBSK WHAT!! OH NO! I got so upset. I stood up with the baby and attempted to pace in this office with no pacing room. Lord, why why why!!! Katrina (our other volunteer) calmly explained the situation. While I went nearly ballistic. She told him I was here from the states to care for this baby for the sole purpose of surgery. It had already been cancelled once. He lives in a home with a million other kids. Staying healthy until June 16 would be nearly impossible. I started tearing up, held Daniel tight, and looked the doctor straight in the eye. He reached down and made a phone call. A few moments later, the surgeon walked in. Very charming man with a firm handshake who spoke English! He looked at the schedule, looked at me, and said, "how about Thursday?" Oh I wanted to jump into his arms! GOD IS SO GOOD! ALL THE TIME!

From there I got to talk with the surgeon for a bit. He told me someone will need to donate blood. I told him I was O negative and he asked if I would be the one to donate. I would more than love to donate blood to this baby. He went on to tell me that while he would be in ICU, that no family would be allowed. However, he then said he would be willing to make an exception and let me stay with him the whole time! Wow- thank you Jesus! Then be started telling me some scary stuff. Daniel's heart defect is pretty severe. The surgeon expects him to go into heart failure during the first 12 to 48 hours. We talked in greater detail about this, but it was in these moments when my heart took a really hard hit regarding the roller coaster that's ahead. I asked him straight up what this baby's chances are. He told me without hesitation that they are good. I think he could tell I've got some- okay a lot- of skepticism about Bolivian health care. He did a really great job of reassuring me while also being honest of what's ahead. I like this guy. 

Monday evening he will be admitted. First thing Thursday morning is surgery. I'm scared. Actually I'm terrified. But I'm also so overwhelmed by God's sovereignty throughout this whole situation, that I can't help but rejoice and praise The Lord. 

We went by the grocery store tonight and a white lady was leaving as we were walking in. She knew Katrina. She looked at me, down at the baby, and asked, "Are you the girl from Texas and is that the baby needing heart surgery we have been praying for?!" YES! WE ARE! Random lady in the grocery store in Cochabamba, Bolivia. In that moment I was joyfully able to tell her our great news. 

So there it is again. The power of prayer at work. And with that- I realize we are still days away from actually entering into the OR. So please continue to faithfully pray for his health, for his weight, and just for our time together the next few days. While I hated that surgery was cancelled originally, I've treasured the days I've had with this boy just taking care of him at home. Thank you for continuing to walk this road with me, friends. And thank you for celebrating with us in the great news today! 

It's a 24/7 job!

So as many of you probably saw, we busted the little guy out of the hospital yesterday! I was thrilled to get him out of the same room with rotavirus. However, rotavirus baby sure was a cutie. Actually, not sure I have come across a Bolivian baby that wasn't absolutely adorable. 

Very similar to the US, when the discharge words are uttered, it's still a few hours before you are actually out the door. The Lord continues to provide opportunities to allow me to practice patience. I used to pray for patience, but now I have realized that the Lord knows I am weak in this area. And He's not going to hand any particular fruit of the spirit to me on a silver platter. No. Instead, He is going to continually put me in situations where I have no choice but to be patient. Then maybe, just maybe, one day when it is a choice- I'll naturally act on it. 

We got home and then almost immediately had to turn around to get him to an appointment back in town. However, with Bolivia being…well…Bolivia, truck drivers had decided they wanted to protest about something and they did a phenomenal job of blockading the road starting right about where we live. It was quite the scene. Very peaceful- but there was no getting by in any sort of vehicle. People were having a great time in the middle of the blockaded road though. At one point I looked outside and kid's had started a soccer game in the middle of the street, using the blockades of rocks and thorns as their goals. That made me smile. This culture is so day-to-day that they can make anything out of any situation. We Americans are so futuristic that we would stomp our feet and whine over a blockaded road that was ruining our oh so important plans. But Bolivians choose to play soccer. It's great. 

After a little bit of walk, a trufi ride, and a taxi ride, we made it to the pediatrician and back. The clinic we went to was really nice. I felt like I was back in the states. It was kinda strange actually. Then the doctor spoke decent english. So then I really wondered if we had teleported home. Another difference in this culture- the doctor sat and talked to me for long time before he even looked at the baby. He wanted to hear everything I had to say, what the plans had been for surgery, what we were hoping for, ect. I now understand why each appointment takes forever, but I loved it. He even said he was going to call and speak with the surgeon personally. He thinks next week may be a good possibility as long as we continue doing well health wise and gain a weeee bit more weight! 

He sent me home with lots of meds. Every few hours I have meds due. I'm feeling right at home when it comes to my nursing world. However, my pyxis is my backpack; and my patient is in my care 24/7. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I am tired- really tired. But it's a good tired. Matt Chandler said something at church one time to the affect of, if you aren't going to bed at night exhausted from serving the Lord- then your priorities are not in line. For me, serving the Lord has never looked quite like this. Being the full time caregiver to a sick child in a third world, is honestly not how I have thought I would spend the month of May in 2014. But I love it! I can already see so many areas that the Lord is doing work in me. And I am a broken person, so He has a lot to do. 

Today, we are relaxing. The baby is sleeping (since he prefers to do that during the day instead of at night), and I am enjoying the quiet day. I am not one to like days like this. Just sitting around. But today I am treasuring this time. Because this is truly a 24/7 job. 

My dad returns to the states tomorrow, so please be praying for his travels. It's been a really neat experience having him here. Never thought I would get to travel the world with each of my parents in a matter of months. Please continue to pray for Daniel's weight, that his lungs stay clear, and that we can bypass logistics to get surgery scheduled soon! 

Mother's Day & Answered prayers

Mom and I in Cambodia 

Mother's Day has never been a big deal in our family. My mother is so practical that she never wanted to celebrate a hallmark-created holiday. But this year I look at this day a little differently. I am 20 years old and single. I am by no means a mother. As much as I cannot wait for the day that I am one, I am more than willing to wait for the man the Lord intends to be by my side if and when that day is to come. However, I would say that I have definitely had the opportunity to get a small taste of motherhood. Both the joys and the hardships. The hardships are hard, but the joys outweigh them all.

My mom always told me I have always had such a crazy natural motherly instinct. I love one of the stories she would tell me about when I was 2 years old and a friend of hers had a baby that was a few months. Still in diapers myself, I wanted to change and feed the baby. My mom said it honestly kind of freaked her out that her toddler already had such outward signs of motherly instincts. When my brother was born when I was 4 years old, she says I immediately started changing, feeding, and carrying this tiny infant. Other parents thought she was nuts for allowing her preschooler to carry the newborn around. So when my sister was born when I was 6, she practically already had a live in nanny. 

It's neat to see where the Lord instills passion and drive in us from a very young age. For each of us it is different and for some it isn't so obvious so soon. But as I look at the course of my life so far, I love that the Lord has continually allowed me to walk down a path of serving Him that has consisted of caring for little ones. 

Being a mom is the most selfless act in life that I think exists. At least I know this is the case because I was raised with a mother who was this way. Many lot I was crazy for what I am doing now, but I didn't think twice about it. Because I was raised by a woman who would do the exact same thing. If there's a need, and the Lord puts my mom in a position to help, she fills the need. No matter how big or how small. She never puts herself first, ever. 

Because my mom and I are practically the same person, I too agree that today is a semi-silly holiday. But I am thankful for a day to be reminded of how incredible of a mother I have. As I sat in the hospital today, I looked around at all the mothers I was surrounded by. New ones each day come and ask me if Daniel is my baby, and I explain the situation- that I am not in fact his mother. But there's still this sweet connection between myself and these other moms. One of them responded with, "but for now you get to be his mom." It was almost like she was saying, I realize he isn't your child. But we understand how hard it is to sit next to a sick baby's bedside. We are all in this together. The mom's like to talk to me quite a bit, and I often have trouble responding. But I have learned here that I can build a lot of trust and sweet friendships off of a simple smile, or sharing of a diaper, or holding their baby so they can run to the restroom. There's lots of ways to show love outside of words. And within the community of these tough moms, there's a lot of love! Because that's just how moms are built- to love. Especially mine!

No huge changes with the baby today. He was definitely more alert and wanting to play! Great signs for sure. Still a potential for discharge tomorrow. He's eating like a champ and even gained .1 kg today. Doesn't sound like much, but we rejoice in any amount going in that direction! 

Last thing I have to share. God did a REALLY cool thing today. I have been praying a lot that He would somehow intervene regarding the language barrier. The Lord did amazing things when I was here back in March with breaking down walls when it came to communication, but this time around has been a lot harder. Advocating for a sick baby is difficult in and of itself, then throw on top of it that you can't really speak to those taking care of the child. For example, I noticed there were signs his IV infiltrated the other day. I kept trying to explain it but it just wasn't working. I texted one of my trusty nurse friends back home and had her google the translation for, "I think his IV has infiltrated because….." So it's been tough. Today, they admitted a baby to our room with rotavirus. A super contagious and nasty virus. The last thing we need around our already immunocompromised heart baby. So I quickly turned into the crazy pedi parent that the nurses talk about at the nurses station. I just couldn't let this be okay. So I was running around like crazy trying to talk to anyone who would listen, and again, no one really understood. Then all of a sudden this sweet medical student/intern approached me and asked in PERFECT ENGLISH, how she could help me. I almost cried. So much weight and stress was lifted in that moment. We chatted and she said she would do everything she could to get him moved. But the point here is- God answers prayers. Always. Sometimes no answer is an answer. But He doesn't ignore us. I've been crying out for help with the language barrier. Today, He provided. And more than I could have ever imagined. 

So we do not lose heart

Today was a simply sweet day. This morning I spent some solid time with the Lord, hoping to better equip myself for the day. I ended up in 2 Corinthians, reading a passage I have highlighted over and over again, but this morning I read it with a whole new perspective.

"So we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction are preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look to the things not that are seen but are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18

I read it once, and then again, and then again and I think 25 more times after that. I don't usually just sit and meditate on one short passage for so long, but this morning it was exactly where the Lord wanted me to be. To remember to not lose heart. To realize that this pain, these struggles, are light and momentary. The glory that is to come is not even comprehensible by our worldly minds. We aren't able to grasp the weight of eternity, but we trust what our God tells about it, because we have hope in Jesus.

Before I left for the hospital, I read a message from a girl who has been following my journey. I don't know her and she doesn't know me, but she has sat in the room I am in now. She has done the back and forth between baby cribs of two sick little ones. She's been here. She told me something this morning that was so refreshing to hear. Do small things with great love. Sometimes, most times, that's all the Lord asks of us. Its us that takes what God says and turns it into our own. Again, the Lord being so faithful in encouragement from community back home.

So I went to the hospital with a much better frame of mind than I went to bed with last night. I was prepared for no progress to be made today and for no questions to be answered. So I sat there and just held that baby boy all day long. Now that it's been three days, he knows when I am there that being held is an option. So if he gets put down or if I walk across the room to attend to the other baby- then he whimpers the most pathetic cry I have ever heard. The fact that he cries out for me honestly touches my heart more than anything. It's my prayer that one day when he is older when he understands what his childhood looked like, that he will not care what my name was or any other volunteer that comes before or after me, but that he will understand the love of his Savior through the arms that carried him through this season of life.

I think he was definitely feeling better today. I even got him to smile and laugh a bit! We cuddled lots. My most favorite thing is to put him on my chest. I can feel his little heart beating and him hearing the sound of mine calms him down. I praise the Lord for every beat that heart of his pumps.

Later in the afternoon, our CDA director came up to the hospital. She was able to track down the doctor so that I could talk to him. I was able to ask about a few things that would help us move along towards discharge. Another huge difference in healthcare here than home. At home, our patient's discharge planning begins the moment they are admitted. We are always looking to and planning for what things will look like at home. Culture is not like that here. You do not plan ahead. Not even really a few hours ahead, much less days. So anyways, I asked that he increase his formula amounts and that we switch from IV to PO antibiotics. The doctor agreed that would be fine and even nodded his head when I asked about likely discharge on Monday! Yay!!

I left the hospital a little early today and ended up having the most incredible and refreshing evening. Jennifer, one of her sons, and I went to the plaza in Cochabamba. They hold something there every Saturday called "kid-washing." The very poor villages in the mountains will come down with there small children to receive a bath because there is no running water where they live. This may be the one bath the kids get for the week or even month. When I got there I was greeted by tons of gringos (what we call white people). Missionaries, orphanage volunteers, hospital volunteers- pretty much every white believer in the city was right there on the plaza :) We had great conversation while we bathed little ones. I always love hearing how the Lord brings different people to different places. One of the girls there just graduated from A&M. Crazy!

From there we went to dinner with lots of friends. There is a family that lives here and currently serves as one of the homes for Casa De Amor. They have six children of their own ranging from 4-16 years old, and have 3 additional Casa babies living with them. So my dad, myself, Kayla, Cameron, Hannah & Lindsey plus two additional babies from the orphanage, our CDA director Jennifer, her husband Jake, and their 4 kids, all had dinner together! It was the most beautiful chaos. A room full of so many people in so many walks of life, with multiple different cultural backgrounds, all here for one purpose….to be the hands and feet of Christ. We spent the night telling great stories and talking a lot about the plans we had made that the Lord had completely changed- and here we all are in Bolivia! Community is not limited to where you are comfortably living. The Body of Christ is everywhere, and you appreciate it in a whole new way when you aren't in your comfortable atmosphere.

So today there were a lot less tears and a lot more smiles. Friends at home, your prayers are being felt- seriously. Please continue praying for the specifics I listed last night, but also that we would be able to get surgery rescheduled ASAP. If anything, that is our biggest concern right now. I am only here so long, and the surgeon comes and goes from Canada. Lots of logistics. But God, fortunately, doesn't need a perfect schedule. His ways are perfect with no schedule at all.

No where to go but to Jesus

Life is hard. We all know this. And for each of us it is hard in different ways, and it changes from season to season. But regardless- it's hard. When you realize the true devastation of our sin, when you understand the reality of the brokenness of this world, you can't go anywhere but to your knees. That was me today. It's miserable and it hurts, but it's also a very sweet place to be in with the Lord. I am in a foreign country where I cannot communicate well. I am surrounded by very sick babies that would not be dying of what they are dying of if we were in one of the many prestigious children's hospitals back home. I see standards of care that would shut a hospital down at home in no time, but here it's all they have and all they know. I spent my day holding a baby, who I love more than anything in this world, and who's time clock is not of your average 7 month old. I hope I don't sound like I am giving up, because oh man I don't give up- ever. But I realize that a lot of stars have to line up in a precise order in a short amount of time for this baby to make it to and through his life saving heart surgery. Now it's nothing our God cannot handle, there's no doubt in my mind there. God's ability does not worry me.  

The two other babies in our room got discharged this morning. Minutes later a tiny little girl was brought into the room. Very malnourished and weighed right at 6 pounds. I noticed she had very long hair for a newborn. That was because I wasn't looking at a newborn. I was looking at an 11 month old. Yes, those numbers are what you read. 6 lbs & 11 months. She was left at the hospital. No parents. So now I am sitting in a room with two orphaned and very sick children. The night before I left I ran to kroger at almost midnight to grab pacifiers and some cheap baby toys. This was why the Lord gave me that urge. I quickly went through my bag and looked for anything I brought extra of to give to her. So all day I went between beds. My hands are so chapped from constant hand sanitizing. At one point they were both crying and I couldn't move quick enough between cribs. That's when I started crying too. So I grabbed my phone, went into iTunes, and shuffled worship music. If we were all going to be crying, we would at least be praising God while we did it. Of course though, I would then cry harder. So I sat at his bedside, he gripped my finger tight, and I got to business with the Lord. The staff doesn't come around much, so the babies and I were left alone during these few hours of just sadness, yet praise. 

I am just a whirlwind of so many feelings right now. Furious that things are not going like planned. Frustrated that medical care here is what it is. Broken by the fact that these babies don't even have parents. I really don't think I have ever been so sad before. Sure, really tough stuff has happened in my life, but there's also been some sort of horizon to look out on at some point. Today there felt like there wasn't one. Until my sweet friend, who has spent a ton more time than me doing third world, medicine sent me this… 

Also hear the Lord as He tells you that He alone has the power to save this earthly life in spite of any circumstance. He also has the wisdom and choice to take them for eternity even when everything is perfect. Just do one small thing at a time and keep telling Jesus all of your frustrations. I usually sum up my prayers into "please" "thank you" and "WTF?!" Feel free to use a lot of WTF prayers. I'm right there with you. It is always an exercise in frustration doing medicine abroad.

Those words hit my heart right where it was needed. So while I am still frustrated, upset, and even furious about some things- I have so much to be praising Jesus for. Both big and small. 

1) I am being used to love a baby who needs love.

2) I am blessed to be serving with the woman who started Casa de Amor. She is incredible. And the three times I called her in tears today, her calming voice was all I really needed in that moment. 

3) I have 3 critical care nurses back home that have been put in my life, all of which have no idea how much they are doing for me through this journey.

4) I have a God that I get to share my frustrations with. I get to yell and scream and cry, and at the end of the day know that I am still loved. 

So I am thankful. For every hard moment. Because in the end, this journey is going to refine me in so many ways. Think about the people you are closest to in your life. It's the people who have not just experienced the mountain tops with you, but they were also there for the dark valleys. When you come out of those valleys, you have a whole new relationship with one another. We serve a God that desires that same relationship with us. Today I am in a valley, and I have a God who is right here with me. I cannot wait to see what my relationship with Him looks like after this. 

Specific prayer needs: we need him to maintain his oxygen saturations above 90%. He has his moments but it's not consistent. He has lost weight since being in the hospital. And his lungs sound like junk. All of this needs to go away for surgery to take place.

We are in the storm

My dad and I made it to Bolivia safe and sound! No travel issues whatsoever, so praising the Lord for that! We had some time in Santa Cruz so I some how convinced my dad that we should take a taxi into town. All I told the driver is, "Will you take us somewhere that has breakfast?" Dad was SO nervous and I was SO comfortable. There's just an element to third world travel that no longer scares me. Don't get me wrong, I am definitely aware of whats going on here, realizing my white skin and blonde hair practically spell out T-A-R-G-E-T, but I really don't worry about much. My dad is here for a week, and I really think it is going to be so good for him! When you spend 25 years in a place like Flower Mound, Texas…your eyes are opened up real quick to what the majority of the rest of the world looks like when you are thrown into the middle of it. You have to overcome the initial state of shock, and realize that God's presence is just as much here as it is in our Bible belt home town.

As soon as we got to Cochabamba I couldn't get my arms around that baby fast enough, so I raced to the children's hospital. Surgery for tomorrow is definitely cancelled. The little man has pneumonia, and it's frowned upon to preform open heart surgery on a kid who's respiratory system is compromised. The moment I laid eyes on him, the tears began to flow. He is so sick. And honestly, I am so scared. As I sat there with him for hours today, all I could think about are parents who do this day in and day out. I thought about my cousins, Shaun and Jennifer- who's baby was diagnosed with leukemia at 9 months. They did this watch-your-baby-helplessly in the hospital gig for over a year. And some parents do it even longer. And some end up losing their children altogether. I know these things, I see these things at work at home, but I have never been on the other side. No, I did not birth this baby, and there's nothing official saying that he belongs to me. And he doesn't- he belongs to the Lord. But the love I have for him is just unreal. Anyone who knows me knows I love kids, but when I hold this baby it's like this whole world stops. Nothing else matters to me but him. What I do know for sure, is love like this is not of our own doing, but is an outpouring of the love our Father has for us.

So to sit there, watching him struggle to breathe, knowing time is ticking with this heart of his, and it is the worst feeling I have ever felt. And my heart truly goes out to parents who do this day in and day out. He is in a room with two other babies. Both of their mom's were there today. So when I arrived, they asked why Baby D never has parents there with him. Through tear filled eyes and broken spanish, I told them he doesn't have any. Both of their hearts sunk and they said something to the effect of, "well you get to be mom for a while, he is lucky for that." They were very sweet. And while the idea of 3 sick babies all in one room is not a good one, it was oddly comforting to see other moms also with their sick babies. I love that we are innately designed to build community with one another.

So as far as what tomorrow, or even the next few weeks holds- I have no idea. I won't get into the nitty-gritty of the concerns I have for him from a medical standpoint regarding the care he is receiving. It's not that people are unkind or don't care…the Bolivian culture is one of the most loving I have ever experienced. But they simply have crappy healthcare. Almost all due to the fact that they have next to nothing for resources. So obviously, hospitals in Bolivia are a complete contrast from ours, except for one thing…they are understaffed and overcrowded. We see it at home, and I saw it today despite being on a different continent. But when I was here in March, the Lord really did a lot in my heart and taught me a ton because he continually threw me into scenarios in which I don't have a choice but to trust Him. He is sovereign. We should always live by this fact, but I know for the next few weeks I will be pressing into that truth like no other. 

I don't have much else to report as of now. I cannot believe the number of people back home praying for this baby! The Lord has flexed His muscles in some mighty ways these last few weeks. No doubt He will continue to do that, even in the storm. But please pray I won't be so distraught that I miss what He's doing, how He is blessing me, and what He is teaching me. I ask anyone who reads this, please go to bed praying for this sweet baby. There's truly no power like that of prayer. Right now, we are in the storm. But we are promised the storms of this life will pass. Thank you, sweet Jesus.