If I close my eyes tightly enough I can hear Audrey’s shrill laughter keep rhythm with her bed bouncing. She stops just long enough to ask, ” ‘Mon, Annie. Wan’ jump Audrey?” Matt swings Annie’s dangling legs from side to side, then up and down mimicking a jumping motion. Audrey squeals, “Mommy, look! Annie jumpin’ bed Audrey!” Then chides, “Very kerrful, Annie!”
My sweet daydream is rudely interrupted by hallway tweets, “Attending 6 south 5 bed 3.” The code call. Someone down the hall needs his life saved. And once this week, even though the call was made, the life wasn’t saved… The awful truth I know is that Annie is only a few beds away and she needs life saving too or we would still be at home worrying over mattress head bumps.
Instead, our family’s days are no longer lighthearted. I don’t get to dress Annie in the outfit I’ll bounce her through church in. Now I undress her so I can restrain her for a heart echo–The heart echo we held our breaths for, hoping against hope that Annie’s heart function would improve.
It did not. It looks the same as last week and the same as the week before when we were admitted. Eleven days on an IV drip of heart failure medication has only maintained her heart failure. Thousands of prayers for healing on Annie’s behalf have only maintained her heart failure.
So now we wait some more. We wait to see when her cath is scheduled and wait to hear what they might find. There’s a small possibility that they could identify a secret, undiscovered cause to her heart becoming sick. But more than that they will be looking to see if Annie’s birth heart is salvageable or if we need to put her on a waiting list for a new one.
I still cannot fathom how my seemingly normal, smiley, social baby who is snuggling me and laughing aloud in her sleep could be sick enough to need a new heart. And I cannot fathom how all of these prayers can go unanswered.
Yet, I know God heard. And I know he can choose to act in any way he chooses. And I also know that if not, he is still good.
But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I definitely don’t claim to understand it. I am clinging to what I said in the beginning: this is God’s story and that somehow makes it good.