A Changing Ocean

Yesterday, as Joel was falling asleep in my arms, I quietly sang “Oceans” by Hillsong United to him. That was the song I listened to on loop while bleeding in the hospital; it was the song I hummed to myself during his delivery; it has become the theme song of this time in my life. The song has nurtured my spirit, reminded me that God is calling me to press in and follow Him and that He won’t fail me.  

Holding Joel and hearing “Oceans”--even if was my own voice singing it (and poorly at that…) was a little strange and wonderful and overwhelming all at once. The waters of my current life experience, though far from a glassy calm, aren’t the dark, churning swells they had been when I was first introduced to the song. My heart was full of praise as I sang to my little squirt, but I realized, too, that I still need those reminders of God’s faithfulness. In many ways, I am still over my head. Gratefully, Jesus still carries me...and hasn’t threatened to put me down, for that matter.

In Joel’s world, he now weighs a meaty 3 pounds, 8.8 ounces. He is swimming in preemie-sized sleepers and being swaddled in the Gerber receiving blankets that I used to view as too small for bundling full-term babies. His isolette, although still providing a consistent, warmer air temperature, no longer provides direct heat to Joel’s body through his little mattress. We’re getting closer and closer to having a baby out of a box. I told Brian that I sometimes feel as though my son is like a hamster or some other caged creature. It was really bad at the beginning when Joel was smaller and more medically fragile. It was kind of an ordeal untangling wires, watching his temperature, monitoring his respirations, oxygen saturation, heart rate. And sometimes, Joel was in no state to be taken out at all. I felt at times like a kid asking her teacher to hold a potentially overstimulated classroom pet.

At any rate, Joel is more stable now and Brian and I are growing more and more comfortable with his care. Although I still intend to work on nursing, splitting life between hospital and home is making it impractical for me to be there for Joel’s every feeding. After hearing opinions from 70 different people and hitting a couple of emotional bumps in the decision-making process, Brian and I opted to start trying bottles with Joel now rather than waiting another week for breastfeeding to fully “establish.” I have been feeling torn--wanting to be with my family at home and wanting to be there if Joel shows signs he is ready to eat by mouth--which has led me to feel uneasy regardless of where I am. Bottles aren’t a magic fix, but at least I know Joel can practice eating on his terms regardless of where I happen to be. Tonight, Brian offered him his first official bottle (I bought Dr. Brown’s preemie bottles.), and Joel took his entire feeding. I’m proud of that little booger and feel some relief (and a hint of guilt) that he took the bottle so well.

In other news, the craziness and inconveniences of ordinary life continue to swirl around outside of the hospital and baby Joel. While juggling hospital visits, we’ve dealt with a fender bender, transmission trouble, a flat tire, a playground accident requiring stitches, and a host of smaller things. We remain in good spirits, but these are the things that keep me convinced that wrapped in Jesus’s arms is the only way to stay afloat in life’s ocean--no matter how calm or turbulent the waters may be. We are tired in this house, but we are blessed, too. Even when meals consist of lunch meat and cheese or something picked up along the road between here and Wesley more often than I care to admit, we continue to be fed both physically and spiritually by people who continue to pray for us and support us. God keeps refining my perspective and offering strength when I need it most, even as my life--my “ocean”--changes around me. So grateful he never lets me go!