I know, I know. I’ve already gotten comments about the tear jerker yesterday. Stick with me, I’ll have you laughing by Friday.
Hope. I first heard that word as a little one. One of my best friend’s names was Julia Hope. I secretly hoped my parents would someday change my name 🙂
In the case of Luke, we saw many glimpses of hope. There was hope at the June perinatologist visit when we were worried about so many things, yet God gave us a glimmer. Perhaps our baby would beat the odds.
There was hope in the recovery room after my emergency c-section when Scott bubbled over with excitement. “Kathryn, he’s on room air. Room Air!” Translation: his lungs were working so beautifully that he didn’t need any extra oxygen.
There was hope after Luke’s first emergency surgery when Dr. Meyer told us that Luke lost quite a bit of bowel, but not all of it. All of it would’ve been bad. Very bad.
There was hope when he started feeds (the second time) and was able to keep them down.
As scary as all of Luke’s follow-up visits were once we were discharged from the hospital, every single one of them has given us hope. Yesterday I talked about being fearful at every visit. That was when I first stepped into the room. It’s the fear of the unknown (and sometimes known), I suppose. Once the doctor arrived and we talked through the diagnosis, I saw hope.
I hope for many things when it comes to Luke.
I hope his siblings don’t crack his skull open once his helmet comes off.
I hope he doesn’t run screaming from the house when he realizes he’s actually related to all those siblings.
I hope he’s happy.
I hope his scars fade but never go away. They are reminders of just how far we’ve come.
I hope he chooses a profession that honors God.
I hope he never has a surgery he remembers.
I hope one day he walks into Dell Children’s, at 6-foot and change, and surprises all his doctors.
I hope his life has made a difference in yours.
Tomorrow, we share the joy and a very special Top Ten. You’re so lucky, I’ll be blogging twice on Wednesday 🙂