There are events in my life that just make me want to hit the pause button, because they effect me in a way that just make it too difficult to carry on with normal life.
We had our follow-up with the perinatologist this morning to look at baby boy’s kidney – we had been praying for the best case scenario – that his kidney will have drained properly and gone down in size. We knew that was a possibility in a lot of hydronephrosis cases and had family and church praying for that outcome.
Unfortunately that’s not what we got. His dear little kidney has in fact gotten bigger. So big that it seems to have created a whole new compartment to store all this fluid.
“Oooh – that’s definitely severe” were the doctor’s words, actually.
She also used the words ‘impressive’ and “one of the bigger ones I’ve seen” and “there is no hope of that correcting on it’s own, not a case that severe”.
Gee, thanks doctor.
There were a couple of other things on my wishlist that I wanted to come away with today, that I did get, even if I didn’t get a normal functioning left kidney.
*A right kidney that is still functioning and at a normal size. Thank you God. I think I am in love with his right kidney.
*Assurance that every other anatomical aspect is still developing and functioning normally (heart, brain, bladder, stomach, etc…)
*A referral to see a pediatric urologist. This will hopefully happen in the next few weeks. I wish I could see him tomorrow as the perinatologist has told us everything she can about what this means for baby’s future outside the womb, but alas more waiting is in store for us.
Jon and I both left the appointment feeling disheartened with resurrected fears of the size of his kidney affecting other organs or even bursting. And just that awful feeling that everything is not perfect with our son.
We have been told by doctors that of all the things that could possibly go wrong, this is the one you would choose if you had to. You only need one kidney.
But I don’t care and those words are not encouraging.
I don’t want this for my son.
So while those statements are true and we are still grateful we are not dealing with anything that appears to be life-threatening or fatal, it doesn’t feel like that today.
Today I wish I could hit the pause button, as I don’t feel like teaching or meeting with students or cooking dinner.
Pause life to take some time to process and cry and come to terms, once again, that my ways are not God’s ways.