Spectacle

This summer, I went to the hospital to see Lindsey and her new baby. On my way out, my feet kind of steered themselves off the elevator and on to the second floor, down the narrow, windowed hall, past the stairway to the long hall that lead to the NICU. I sat down on one of the benches and stared through the glass doors and into the ward. I smelled the familiar smells. I watched the familiar sight of parents walking by and going through the drill. Sign in. Stick the thermometer under your tongue. Record the reading. Hand-sanitize. Get your key and go see your baby, hoping and praying with every step that she is well. I wondered how early their baby was.

And despite my best efforts to keep myself together, I sat on the bench and cried. I cried for my Lucy. I cried for the woman I was and the man my husband was then. I cried for the parents who were in the throes of this struggle. And I cried for their babies. And in any other setting, I might have made a spectacle of myself, but here, seeing someone you don't know in tears is just part of NICU culture. Because when your newborn looks like this, it's hard to hear even the doctors and nurses over all your worry. You can't see it in the picture, but Lucy has an IV in her head. (There's a hole in the hat, which I kept.) That thing on her face is called a bubble C-pap. There is also a feeding tube running up her nose. The sensor things taped to her torso are measuring breathing or blood flow or something. There is a blood pressure cuff on her foot and I can't remember what that thick tube in the back is for.

Last week, as a part of our connect group story, I read John 9:1-3:

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. "Rabbi," his disciples asked him, "why was this man born blind? Was it because of his own sins or his parents' sins?" "It was not because of his sins or his parents' sins," Jesus answered. "This happened so the power of God could be seen in him."

 So the power of God could be seen in her.

October 22, 2012, after a 19-day stay in the NICU, we took Lucy home. Within a year, she was caught up with her peers in size, and within two years, she was caught up with them entirely. And from the very moment of her birth, she has been a testament to the power of God.

Keep that up, Lucy Jean.