All done.

Peter 1:1:7
Your faith will be like gold that has been tested in a fire.  And these trials will prove that your faith is worth more than gold that can be destroyed.  They will show that you will be given praise and honor and glory when Jesus Christ returns.  

 

All done.

 

It's what we've heard our Isaac say over and over and over again this past month, and more so, over the past couple of weeks.  I think I've heard him say, "All done, all done." about 1,000 times or more.  

 "All done."

 

He says it when he's scared. Scared of someone poking him. Scared of the surroundings in a doctor's office.  Scared of nurses and hospitals. Scared of anything remotely looking like medicine or a procedure. Scared of pain.

 

 

As it leaves his mouth in desperation, I recognize it. It's been my heart's cry for a while now.

 

"All done, Lord. Let us be all done. Let this season be over, finally. All done."

 

I know we aren't supposed to rush God or rush a season, because within every season there is an appointed time for growth. I also know that God does not bring pain, but He does allow something powerful to come from within it, if we allow Him to. There is a purpose hidden deep within it. That purpose can catapult us into a new place within Him. I don't want to ever go ahead of Him or miss Him. I want to stay in Him. But,  I know that without the stirring up of the soil that comes with growth, there is no bloom, there is no harvest.

 

I hope with everything in me, that our harvest has come.

 

 

And when a man works dirt, he cultivates a life needing patience and kneeling to Providence: you can’t drive a seed to grow and you can’t demand a sky to give.
~~Ann Voskamp
 

 

Isaac had surgery about two and a half weeks ago to remove his tonsils and adenoids that were enlarged due to layers of scar tissue that had grown during the first 15 months of his life. This scar tissue was the result of severe reflux caused by the artery constriction on his esophagus.  As he grew bigger, so had the scar tissue, enlarging his tonsils and adenoids creating severe obstructive sleep apnea and more reflux. No one could foresee this coming down the line for him. We all thought that after he healed from heart surgery, he was good to go. We would find out a few months later, that it was not the case. Although the surgery was an all cure for all of the present symptoms he had, it brought on new ones that would soon reveal themselves. Even though it took several long months to figure out what was going on,  I am so thankful that this domino effect had a simple solution to fixing it. Remove the tonsils and adenoids, remove all the scar tissue.  He also underwent a turbulent reduction to open up the airways in his nose, to allow him to breathe easier.

I wasn't prepared for the pain that would follow his surgery. I've heard our sweet boy cry out in pain so many times the first week after, that it brings me to tears when I think about it. There was only one other time that I've heard that painful cry come from him. It was when they removed his ventilator three days after heart surgery. He cried that painful, wailing cry for over 45 minutes. There was nothing we could do to soothe him. He just cried and cried. Maybe he was crying out to God then to be "all done", but his little voice didn't have the words.


On day 9 after T and A surgery, we were back in the hospital because Isaac was badly dehydrated.

The thing is, although this surgery was much needed, it affected Isaac's biggest sensory area. His oral sensory.  After experiencing the gagging and choking he did over the first 15 months of his life, he learned how to protect himself by either not eating or being very particular about what he allowed to pass down his throat. He will chew food, and spit it out in fear that he won't be able to swallow it. Other times, he will gag himself causing regurgitation because he's just not sure about what is trying to go down. With the inflammation due to surgery, he felt as though he couldn't swallow anything so had refused to drink or eat anything. This is bad news for a T and A recovery. Fluids are what helps the throat heal. He was also refusing pain meds. Not a good scenario.

After 14 1/2 hours of no fluids and no wet diapers, he finally found relief. He was placed on IV fluids and steroids to shrink the inflammation. Little did we know,  there was very little opening in his throat due to the inflammation and he had also begun bleeding. He was in severe pain.

We are now at 2 1/2 weeks post-op and Isaac is doing wonderfully!
He is eating and drinking, without complaint. He is sleeping again. The obstructive apnea is gone. All gone. Last night, he only woke up once. We are sleeping again and it is glorious!
Sleep, oh how I've missed you!

 

 I pray, that this is the last of the surgeries and procedures for a very long time.

In fact, nothing is on the horizon.
No procedures, no doctor visits (besides normal checkups) and no surgeries.
I don't even know how to act to that. Weird, I know.

So, I'm hopeful.
We are all hopeful.
We've learned throughout this entire season with Isaac, that Hope outweighs the hard stuff. That even when things are rough and seem impossible, and the questions seem to linger unwanted and you're tired, just simply tired...Hope gets you through one moment at a time. Hope keeps your head above water.  Hope reminds you that God is good and that His presence is woven into every fiber of our lives.

Hope reminds you to press in.


Micah 7:7
But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my savior; my God will hear me.


Isaac lay next to me sleeping about a week or so ago. He was finally sleeping after a very long day full of some of the worst pain I have ever seen him experience, I heard him softly crying in his sleep, "All done, all done."

 

There next to him, the tears fall and I press into God.

 

"All done, Lord, all done."

 

They are the only words that I am able to get out and I hope that within those few small simple words, He hears me.


There is a good working on my inside when circumstances are hard fought on the outside. 
If we will press in and hold tight to the Lord, there's a gift in the yuck.
~~Lysa Terkeurst

 

Last night, he lay next to me again. He was finally sleeping after a very long day of playing and spending the day with his two older sisters. I heard him softly breathing. No snoring, no choking, no struggle to breathe. Just peaceful sleep.

There next to him, a smile takes over my face and I press into God.

"Thank you, Lord, thank you."
 

Maybe, just maybe, we are all done after all.

 

Maybe, our harvest has come.


I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.
Psalm 27: 13–14