Inspired by my Husband...

On Sunday morning my husband got the opportunity to preach at the church we've been attending this past year.  Unfortunately, Hudson and I couldn't be there so I had to listen to a podcast of his sermon this morning.  And as I have gone throughout my day I can't stop thinking about some of the things he said.  And so, inspired by my husband, I can't help but share my thoughts about it with all of you...

I've believed in God for my entire life, well as long as I can remember.  And to be honest, I don't even really remember the exact moment I became a follower of Christ.  I would define my walk with God more as a constant journey with some seasons of growth, passion, and an eagerness to learn; and some of rebellion, complacency, and boredom.  But through it all, I would say that I've always had faith in God.  Faith that He existed.  Faith that He cared about me.  Faith that good would prevail in the end.  And faith that He heard and answered the prayers of His people.

I must admit, however, that in my 25 years of life things have gone pretty well for me.  And to be honest, it's pretty easy to have faith in God when you feel like everything is going your way.  But what happens when it doesn't?  What happens when life crumbles in around you? Will your faith shatter along with everything else?

 It is with these questions that I find myself extremely convicted.  Because this past year, my faith has been rocked.  I can't even begin to describe the disappointments and heart aches this year has brought.  My poor husband has lost his job twice due to budget cuts, leaving us not only financially vulnerable...but emotionally vulnerable as well.  It has been one of the hardest things to watch him slowly lose his passion, vision, and confidence in his calling towards ministry as time goes on.  It's where he belongs.  It's where his gifts lie.  And it has been difficult on us all for him not to be in that place.  In this season where my husband has tried to find work, we have also dealt with the news and repercussions of our son being born with Spina Bifida.  And that, has truly been a test of faith for me.

I must be honest; as I sat by my little boy's bedside day after day, week after week, and month after month in the NICU...I got to some pretty dark places.  I would sit there helplessly as my son endured multiple surgeries and a huge e-coli infection.  I watched him lay flat on his stomach for two months.  I sat with him as he had breathing tubes and anesthesia racing through his veins.  I watched my poor boy being poked and prodded, being stitched up and cut open again.  I sat and wondered if he would ever make it out of the NICU walls.  I would have given anything to help him.  Anything to get him out of there.  I felt powerless.  And so I would pray to God that He would help my son.  Because it was beyond my control, but I knew it wasn't beyond His.  And as each day passed and things seemed to get worse and worse, I became angry.  Because I wasn't seeing any results.  Nothing was changing.  My son was still hurting.  He was still in pain.  He was not healed. 

I began to wonder.  How could God have the power to help my son and choose not to?  It could all be over in a blink of an eye.  My son could be completely healed.  How could Hudson's Father stand by and let this happen?  Let his precious son hurt and not do everything in his power to stop it.  He supposedly loves him more than I ever could.  I was powerless.  But He wasn't.  And still he did nothing.

This kind of faith, the kind that only believes God is in control and that he loves us when everything is going well...this is no faith at all.  The true test comes when things don't go our way.  Will we still believe God loves us more than we could possibly imagine when we don't see the results we desire?

Being a mom has truly opened my eyes to this question and has helped me connect to God in a way I didn't understand before I brought my son home.  Because there have been times when I sit in my room listening to Hudson cry and I don't go in to get him.  I know that if I were to go into his room and pick him up, he would stop crying.  But I also know that if I picked him up, he wouldn't sleep.  I know he is tired, and so what's best for him is to fall asleep.  I see a bigger picture than he can see in that moment.  I see my boy learning to fall asleep on his own when he is tired.  I see his smiling face in the morning when he has gotten a full night's rest.  And so I sit, outside of his door, with tears in my eyes as he cries himself to sleep.  Do I want to go in and 'save' him?  You bet.  My heart aches as I sit and sob along with him.  Because I know I could temporarily fix his problem.  But I also know that in the long run, it's not what is best.  And so I sit, and do nothing but cry alongside my baby boy.

This is how I see God now.  I see him sobbing uncontrollably along with me when my son goes into surgery.  I see him fight the urge to jump in and fix everything.  I see him struggle to watch his precious children go through such turmoil on earth.  I see his heart ache when we feel pain.  But I see his love shine through when he chooses to do what's best in the long run.  When he refuses to be a genie that grants us every wish we bring to him, and waits patiently for us to see him as our loving Father.  A Father who mourns when we mourn, who jumps for joy when we rejoice, and who loves us so much that we can never fully comprehend it.  A Father that always has our best interest in mind, and sees so much clearer and further than we do.  Now that's a God worth following.

And so, whether good times or bad, whether I see results or I don't...I will bow my knee to my Father and never cease sharing the truth of his love and sacrifice.  Because every good and perfect gift comes from Him.

And none of the hard stuff changes any of that.  God is still God, and He is always worth praising.

I am thankful for my husband, who reminded me of this truth.  You are an inspiration.    

3 Months Old!

I can't believe how quickly it seems my little guy is already changing.  I mean 3 months old.  That's crazy.  It seems like at this age Hudson is changing everyday.  Just when you think you know a guy...he decides to surprise you. 

I decided that I would update you all on the happenings of this little guy at 3 months.  The daily life of Hudson Shamblin and some major bench marks we have reached.  Now, just as a prelude...some of these things aren't really going to seem like great achievements in your eyes.  However, something you should know is that while Hudson's body has done a great job healing from the 2 months he had in the NICU, his emotions have been a little fragile to say the least.  Our little boy still carries the effects of NICU life with him and we have had to break through some tough obstacles to calm his nerves about seemingly meaningless things.

For example, he has what the physical therapist calls 'fear of movement.'  This basically means that from the minute we got him home, every time he changed positions in our arms or was passed from one person to the next he would scream, LOUDLY (he's got quite the high-pitched, ear piercing, only dogs can hear kind of scream).  Now while this 'fear of movement' has been somewhat frustrating and annoying to us...I completely understand and feel sorry for the poor guy.  I mean what do you expect?  When you stick a newborn in a bed and have them do nothing but lie on their stomach for 2 months, and then expect them to go home and be passed from person to person and place to place...I'm thinking that's a little unfair.

But luckily, we have introduced Hudson to the giant yellow exercise ball.  And life will never be the same.

This has been our saving grace.  We plop this tiny munchkin on the ball and bounce and move in every which way possible.  And while he was a little apprehensive at first...

He actually really enjoys it.

It is such a fun way for him to get used to moving and playing outside of a bed.  And it's pretty fun for dad and I too!  Between this and 'flying', we've got the perfect antidote for this boy's fear of movement.

Which leads me to another fear of my son's; being on his back.  Now this one really puts a spin on life at home (not to mention Bellybou').  What are you supposed to do with a baby who cannot sit up on their own, and cannot lift their head for long enough to be entertained on their stomach when you can't place them on their back?  Answer...either carry them everywhere, or hear them scream bloody murder.  But with a lot of silly faces and slow transitions from his side to his back, we have had several successes!

Yes, it has been an interesting and challenging month for us.  We have had to dig deep and find more patience and understanding for our son's situation than I ever anticipated.  But the coolest thing has been to watch my little boy adjust and learn and actually begin to enjoy the things he once feared.  So here he is; my little fighter, my little champ, living life in a big big world and soaking up and enjoying every second of it without fear.

Gotta love those hands!

Favorite pastime...laughing at himself in the mirror.

Second favorite pastime...reading.  He actually looks at the pages, smiles, coos, and laughs.  So fun.

I love this boy with all of my being.  I am so very, very proud of you Hudson.  Here's to many more months of growth and change.  Bring it on...

Joy

So here I am...back in the blogging world.  And this time I have my own blog that I can access wherever I am, which means you can expect a lot more posts from me :).  I have been wanting for so long to start my own blog separate from the website that Clint keeps up.  Not just for my own sake, but mostly because I feel like I owe it to all of you out there who have invested so much into my little boy.  I guess I never realized truly how many people have prayed, have checked our website and facebook posts, and who have poured their hearts into our family.  So the least I can do is continue to keep you all up to date on the happenings of Hudson and our little family of 3.  Because I know your hearts are still invested.  I know that just because the initial crisis of the NICU has come to a close that doesn't mean I can drop off the face of the earth and stop updating you all.  I know that the battle is not over with my son.  That he will continue to fight his whole life.  I know I will struggle to find strength as his mom.  I know some days I will rejoice.  I know some days I will mourn.  I know that I will fall on my knees and pray God uses my son in mighty ways because of all he has dealt with.  And I know that I will need the strength, support, and encouragement from you all just the same in this everyday life as I did when Hudson was in the hospital.

So here begins my blogging journey, and I must warn you that this post will be a LARGE one.  Because I have been meaning to reflect on my first couple months as a mom for soooo long, and between the feedings, diaper changes, and doctors appointments I fear if I don't get my thoughts down now it will be months before I get a chance to.

So now onto the real topic of this post.  JOY.  I must admit that this word is something I have struggled with during my time as a mom.  If I am going to be honest, it's mostly because I have felt for sometime that I missed out on many of the joys of being a new mom.  I have always wanted children.  Always dreamed of the day that I would give birth to my first baby.  I pictured what that moment would be like.  The absolute and utter joy I would feel when that miracle came into this world.  When I started dating Clint in high school, we would talk about that day.  Some far away day that seemed so unrealistic but was so fun to fantasize about.  As time went on I wanted that day to come more and more.  When Clint and I finally got married that's when it got real.  And the entire year and a half we were trying to get pregnant I focused on that picture.  I meditated on the image of my newborn baby being put into my arms and squeezing them so tight I would never them go.  I imagined the tears that would fill both Clint and my eyes as we stared at this perfect gift in my arms.  I could feel the relief and joy that would rush over me as our dream FINALLY came true.

December 9, 2010 was the day my son came into this world.  The day I had waited for.

 The thing is, though, it happened nothing like this 'dream' I had conjured up in my mind.  Because of Hudson's condition I had to have a c-section.  And due to some unfortunate circumstances with the anesthesia (that I will spare you the details of...but lets just say I was in a bit of pain), I had to be put out the second Hudson was born.  So I remember very little of that day.  I remember lying on the table to begin the c-section.  I remember feeling pain.  I remember hearing the doctor say that the baby was going to be out in 30 seconds, and being so glad because that meant the pain was going to be over soon.  I remember hearing the tiniest bit of crying.  I remember hearing the doctor say it was 7:49.  And then I remember hearing Clint ask if the doctor was going to put me out of my misery and knock me out.  And then the world went black.  That was it.  I didn't see my son's face.  I didn't see my husband's face.  I didn't hold my baby boy close to me.  I didn't experience an ounce of joy.  Just pain.

The first time I saw my son was on Clint's iphone.  I remember staring at these images and feeling so disconnected to the baby that I saw.  I remember wanting to break out into tears because I had missed out on everything.  I missed out on my moment.  I missed out on getting to introduce my son to my family and friends.  I sat up in the recovery room while Clint ushered people into the NICU to meet Hudson.  I remember feeling like it was so unfair that I carried him with me for 9 months and was the last one to meet him.  It felt so unnatural.  I felt empty.  Like my baby had just been taken from me, along with my dream of what this day would look like.   I don't even remember naming Hudson.  I was so groggy that the memory of that conversation with Clint is completely gone.  Every single idea I had of what having my first baby would be like was lost.  And to be honest, I was bitter about it.  I was devastated.  Because it was so hard to let all of that go and know that I would never get it back.

But here's the crazy thing about joy.  Joy floods over us when we least expect it and in the most unusual ways.  Joy is experienced when we let go of our own desires and our ideal pictures.  When we accept what this life has handed us and embrace the amazing blessings that come despite tough circumstances.

I will never forget the joy I felt the first day Hudson was put in my lap.  I grabbed his hand and sobbed uncontrollably.

 I will never forget the joy I felt every time I would see Hudson in the NICU.  I know that is a very general statement, but it is so true.  I had a hard time recovering from my c-section.  I could barely walk, I could barely move.  It was rough.  But when I would get wheeled up to my son's bedside...for those 20 minutes...nothing else would matter.  He poured life and energy into my weak body.  

I will never forget the first time I knew I loved this boy with my entire being.  When I knew he had captured my heart.  As hard as it is to admit...it wasn't the first day he was born.  And hopefully I am not the only mom out there that would confess to that.  But it was on day 5.  I remember it vividly.  It was the night I fell asleep dreaming of his face.  The night that my heart ached for him.  The night I missed my son more than I could bear.  I felt such sorrow that night, but at the same time such joy as I meditated on the overwhelming emotion of truly being captivated by this tiny being that had just come into the world.  Without being separated from him, I'm not sure I would have experienced this truly joyful and precious moment in the quiet of my room.

I will never ever forget the joy I felt on February 11, 2011.  The day my son came home!!!  I am so lucky.  I am so blessed to have this day.  Words cannot describe the relief and the comfort that this day brought.  Our family was whole.  All was right in the world on this day even though Hudson didn't nap well, didn't eat well, and was having a hard time adjusting.  It didn't matter.  He was home.  And my heart was filled with joy.

I wish I could describe the emotions I have had throughout this entire experience.  I wish I could describe the joy I feel every time I pass Kaiser hospital.  Doesn't that sound crazy?  I feel insurmountable joy when I drive by there.  Like something is pulling me towards the front doors.  Beckoning me to come in.  I would have thought I would never want to go there ever again.  That after being there 3 times a day for 65 days and experiencing some of the most traumatizing news I ever have in the darkness of the NICU walls...it seems I would want to run away.  To never return again.  But it is quite the opposite.  Because as terrible as it sometimes was, it was Hudson's home.  For 2 months it is where my baby boy lived.  It was my only connection to him.  It was the place I got to see his smiling face.  It was place I got to hold his hand.  It was the place I got to meet and get to know my son.  It was a huge part of Hudson's story and our story as a family.  It is a part of us all.  And it always will be.  And for that reason, I can feel nothing but joy at the thought of it.  

And that, my friends, is the crazy thing about joy.  Happiness comes and go.  It fades when life gets tough.  But joy.  True joy that God bestows upon us can only be experienced when we dive head first into each of our unique stories.  When we stop comparing.  When we stop wishing.  When we stop dreaming, and we just live.  We live this life alongside those that we love and we soak up every ounce of joy there is.  Because no matter how dark life gets...there is always light.  

This little boy is one huge light in my life.  He reminds me that life is so precious.  And every night when I put him to sleep I squeeze him a little tighter and pray a little more fervently than I probably would have without this experience.  Thank you to you all for bringing our family, and our son more love and support than most 2 months old will ever receive.  We are blessed.  We are overflowing with JOY!