I hardly know what to write. Last week was such a great week, full of good news and blessings. I joked that it would be just perfect if we moved all our stuff into our new house, went to bed and got woken up in the night with The Call that a heart was coming. And that's exactly what happened. When our phone rang at 3:30 in the morning on Sunday, Daniel flew out of bed with the added disorientation of not only being woken up in the middle of the night, but sleeping in an unfamiliar room. It was the hospital and there was a potential heart. I just crumbled on the floor in a heap of tears, begging God to please, please, please let this happen. We knew it wasn't definite but everything looked good. You can imagine what it was like to be told we had to just sit and wait a few hours to know any more news.
We arrived at the hospital at 8:30 and it wasn't until around noon that the surgeon came in and told us that the hospital where the donor was had acted prematurely and that the heart that had been offered was in much worse shape than they believed. The transplant wasn't possible. I couldn't even cry. I just stood there blankly and didn't want anyone to touch me. I didn't want anyone to tell me that it would be ok or that the right heart would come. I just wanted to go eat lunch and forget that for 8 hours I thought Caleb was going to get a heart.
I didn't let myself even think about it until the end of the day. Our family had come and when they all left, and we put Caleb to bed and sent Jonah home with Grammy, we came back to the Ronald McDonald House and went to bed and wept. Then we woke up this morning and wept some more before we even got showered. We spent about half an hour praying together before we got up and went back to the hospital. I think today was the first time that we honestly felt like we almost couldn't get out of bed and go back there. But we did, one step at a time. It was like we just had to decide we were not going to give up... because we were sure tempted to. When I opened my eyes this morning, I felt like I was so close to the edge; the edge of total despair and darkness. I begged God to help us and told Him that He is the only thing between me and hopelessness. He simply had to help because we had nothing else to keep us from falling apart.
He did help. We got up, we showered, we went back to that room. We thanked God for another day. We ate lunch together while Caleb napped and we processed the events of yesterday. We took a nap ourselves. We met with the transplant team who were sincerely shaken; everyone was. Everyone on this floor wanted that heart to come so badly. It was a comfort to us to see how deeply the people here care for us and our son. By the time Caleb got up from his nap this afternoon, we were in a much better place. A kind soul brought us supper and while we were eating it, I had the overwhelming sense that people were praying for us and that God was giving us little slivers of peace and strength because of those prayers.
Thank you for all your care and prayers. They make a difference. If you have taken the time to offer a prayer for us, please know you have our deepest appreciation. We still believe in a loving God, even when it seems crazy to do so, and we still choose to accept whatever He has for our life.