Looking Back - Part 3

This has been harder than I anticipated. There are just so many memories muddled together, they are hard to flesh-out into succinct posts.

Suffice it to say, we had a glimpse of the Body of Christ as it was intended to be - people prayed for us and our baby, wrote cards, called, and offered to help in every conceivable way. We were completely humbled, and still are, that anyone would choose to walk this road with us, lifting up a common voice to heaven on Eamon's behalf, and loving us through dark days.

My mom had updated my family so that I wouldn't need to repeat the painful verdict. I remember my sister, overcoming her own fears and insecurities, to stand with me for some difficult moments. I recall the first conversation I had with Jerry, my big brother, discussing the hard issues at stake - confessing to him my absolute belief that God could heal, but now that it had hit so closely home did I really believe God could heal my baby?

I prayed, as did many, for God to re-create Eamon, while at the same time knowing I would cherish him regardless of the answer. As his birth grew closer, I found my prayers simplified, all petitions having been made known, and now I could rest in praying the Our Father ...Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Originally, it was agreed that I would deliver Eamon. I had a c-section with Myles, but the Drs felt it was an unnecessary risk for me to have surgery. Again, reminding me that the possibility of Eamon's survival was minimal. I was actually thrilled with the chance to deliver again. It was my initial request - to try a V-BAC (Maeve was delivered in a traditional manner - possibly too much info, right!)

An appointment was arranged for David and I to meet with Dr. Manginello, the director of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at our hospital. He would be present at the birth along with two NICU nurses. Once the baby was born, he would resume the care for him, and the details of what type of "heroics" we wanted performed needed to be addressed.

I can vividly see the drawing he created that showed Eamon's head lacking brain, filled with fluid instead. I asked how I could feel the baby moving, as we spoke, if there was no brain. The Dr explained that there was a brain-stem which allowed for involuntary functions. Those movements were simply reactive. He compassionately posed various scenarios, even referring to Eamon as our son, that would require our thoughtful consideration. There were ways that they could keep our baby alive, for an indefinite period of time, if we desired. Questions that no mom or dad should ever have to evaluate needed answers that we simply didn't have. How could we, really, until they presented themselves in our reality. I prayed that God would not require that we determine life or death, that He would settle that on His own.

At about 36+ weeks, I was sent for a fetal MRI of Eamon's brain. Hoping to give a more accurate description/prognosis. Confusion was setting in, why was this baby still growing? The report was never elaborated on, strange for the perinatologist was usually quick to give a negative word. Actually, she never came back in to see me again. And now, as we were fast approaching my due date, Dr Death was nowhere to be found.

The fact that Eamon was still with us altered the birth plan. Suddenly, a c-section was back on the table. Eamon had enough problems, why add to it the trauma of birth. We were elated. Eamon was at the least viable enough to warrant surgery for me!

God was still at work preparing the way for the mister's debut!