It’s Difficult to Breathe

It’s been a very tough weekend for us. We appreciate the extensions of love and care. But it is painful to tell the story over and over again so we thought we’d share it here and invite you to read it.

While Randall was in Guatemala, Kelley made an exciting discovery. Something to the tune of six pregnancy tests confirmed that we were having a baby. I came home from Guatemala and found a wrapped gift waiting for me that contained a tiny baby onesie that read, “3 is for quitters!”. We were thrilled. Shocked, but thrilled. And, after a few days of secret keeping, we decided we were just too excited to keep quiet and shared the news with the kids (who were ecstatic) and our families.

The week went on. We immersed ourselves in baby prep – apps, websites, magazines, etc. – started talking about names, discussing where we’d deliver. Weird cravings, nausea, newly-pregnant-mommy stuff… The kids would kiss the baby goodnight and tell everybody how they weren’t supposed to tell anybody about the baby yet. Rosie’s famous line was, “I can’t tell you that my mommy’s gonna have a baby.” She’s not great at keeping secrets, but then again… no female in this family is.

The last couple of pregnancies have started with scares. Spotting. Emergency room visits fearful of tragedy. Both Grady and Rosie are here despite those moments. They were able to fight through to become healthy babies. Eli too. His life was in peril before he came into this world, as most of you know. We are so grateful for the health of all of them.

Midway through the week this week, the spotting started. We kind of expected this. But it continued to get heavier. And on Thursday it became concerning. We had friends coming in town. As soon as they arrived, we left our kids with them and met the doctor at the hospital to see if we could get some insight into what was happening. The ultrasound showed a little blood in places there shouldn’t be blood. But really, it didn’t show what we were looking for. Which was a tiny little baby. Kelley had some bloodwork to check her levels of pregnancy hormones. The doctor called us later and said her level was 33, which was low. Very low. We knew we were losing the baby.

Our amazing friends stayed the weekend. They cooked dinner. They played with our kids. We sat around a fire, listened to music, drank beer and soaked up the time spent with our dear friends. Kelley was sick all weekend. Friday night was the worst of it. She had intense labor like pains (I guess it was labor). But we held out hope that the follow up bloodwork would show a miracle.

We went to church this morning, which was difficult to say the least. Not many people knew what was going on but it was obvious that we were sad about something. We weren’t ready to say anything until we had gotten the results from the follow up labs. But Kelley knew this morning when she woke up that things had changed. She recalled not feeling pregnant anymore. And this afternoon, the test results confirmed it… we’d lost the baby.

We told the kids that sometimes babies are sick. So very sick that it’s better for them to go on to Heaven. And even though it’s sad for us now, because we wanted to meet this baby and to hold this baby, we get eternity together in Heaven, reunited with our Father.

Eli took it the hardest. We wondered if we should’ve told them about the baby. But, here’s the thing. This baby is a part of our family story. We can’t ignore it. Life is joy and sorrow. Today our family was reminded that our Father is the great comforter. That he is able to reach into our darkness and pull us from the depths.

I’m not real sure where we go from here. We don’t know how to feel. Overwhelmed, for sure. Feels a bit like drowning. Like in ‘How He Loves’… if grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking. It’s difficult to keep breathing some moments. Partly due to the pain and mostly under the influence of the love of our Father.

Over the next few days we’ll be taking some time as a family to begin healing. If you find yourself in a moment where God brings us to your mind, take a second to pray for peace and that Kelley’s body heals without the need for surgery.

We love you very much. We are thankful for your concern and care for us and for your sacrificial love for us, especially to Jeff, Jodi, Beth, the Grove Elders, Dr. and Mindy Castor, Kari and Mitch, the band and our families. You are special to us and we are grateful.

300 Miles to Go, Part I

Man, it’s been a long journey.

We started in August, talking about the idea of launching back out into full-time ministry. It’s been three years and I got really hurt last time. But we both knew the timing was right. I remember sitting on the couch at our house one evening and Kelley asking, “When do we consider this a real possibility?” I couldn’t believe she’d just said that. I’d been resistant before but the timing of her question couldn’t have been more divine.

For awhile I’d been feeling the tug to rejoin the path I’d left a few years back. I knew this could be a big risk. I kept thinking, “Not only is there the pain of past experiences but now I have a family that I’ll cast into this and only God knows where we’ll have to move.”

We talked off and on for the next few days about our options. I pulled out my resume. Added some new experiences to it and posted it to a couple of church job websites. Within a week we had half a dozen promising prospects.

Not a single one of them in Birmingham.

Before too long, three job options began to emerge that we wanted to pursue.

Seattle. Huntsville. North Carolina.

The one in Seattle seemed so exciting and we were convinced we’d be moving our family across the continent. That was a hard idea to stomach but it was a very electrifying prospect. They are a very large Christian resource publisher and I was being considered to write their training curriculum. A couple of interviews later and I received a gracious letter from them to let me know they had chosen another candidate.

We’d been talking (really emailing) the churches in Huntsville and North Carolina to try and setup conversations, possibly even visits if/when the timing was right. These emails and conversations went at a slow but rhythmically predictable pace. We had been at this with a goal of knowing where we’d be placed by Thanksgiving 2009. We had a couple of opportunities to visit with one church and spend an extended amount of time on the phone with the other and started to really get the sense that both of these places were involved in some really spectacular work.

All the while, we knew we needed to get our houses ready to sell (remember, Kelley bought a townhouse before we started dating and after we were married we began renting out). We’d asked a real estate agent we knew to help us sell the townhouse.

We got nowhere.

So, for our house we turned to our good friend, Social Networking. We posted on Craigslist, facebook, Oodle and our own personal website and by the afternoon we had record-interested buyers. We had the pitfalls of some scammers, too, causing us a little bit of chaos and aggravation. Thankfully, we were quickly able to squash them and keep moving ahead. We just knew that with the housing sales still in the crapper, we had to generate some quick interest that would stand out from the other houses on the market in our neighborhood and turn our house around fast.

As most of you may remember, during this time Rosie had been admitted to Children’s Hospital for more than a week, Christmas was only days away and the new year was quickly approaching. This was not a calm stretch of weeks for us. This Holiday season was a little bit busier than others in the past had been. Add to that the stress of not knowing where we’d live once we finally sold – or rented – or leased – our house.

Our plan was to move into the townhouse and live out of our luggage until we knew what direction we’d be heading with these job prospects. Sometime mid-January just before we were heading up for another visit with one of the prospective churches, we signed the lease to our house with the new family moving in February 1. As we were traveling, our agent called to tell us that someone was interested in purchasing our townhouse.

Guess when she wanted to close…

Yep. February 1.

There goes our plan for living at the townhouse. Looks like we’re piling in with Kelley’s folks. Gonna be a tight fit. But hey, saves us lots of money. Still living out of a suitcase, though.

In light of the way God seemed to be working things out, I laughingly told Kelley that I expected to hear from one or both of the churches on February 1.

Meanwhile, we ordered a POD to begin packing up our things to make room for the new family moving into our house. We submitted the order to have it delivered on Thursday. But sovereignly, early Tuesday morning, we were awakened to repeated rings of the doorbell. I threw on clothes and went to the door to find a large 16’ container being dropped off in our driveway. Earlier than we were prepared for but it would turn out in our favor, having two extra days for packing. It’s amazing how our 1500 square foot house fit into such a small space; and humbling to realize that all our earthly possessions are in a little box that is half the size of our garage.

After the final walk-through we said goodbye to the house of all our family memories to date. We were married at this house. We brought our babies home to this house. We celebrated Eli’s adoption here.

Birthdays. Baptisms. Lots of firsts.

It was hard to now see this house so empty after leaving us so full.

We said our farewells, recalled some fond memories and drove away. We needed some rest anyway. “There’s too much limbo in our lives right now. It’d be nice just to have some direction,” we constantly thought. A couple of days later we headed up to West Virginia for a few days of skiing.

Kelley and I finally got a chance to ski together. As we were taking the lift she said, “I wish we just had something concrete. Wish we could make some plans.” And I wished I could give her some answers.

But for now, there’s a long blue run down a snowy mountain calling our names.

We’d only been back to the condo a few minutes when the phone rang. This was it. Could this be the call we were waiting on? Could this be the answer to all our searching? After the conversation played out, we couldn’t have been more excited.

A little scared but really excited.

The Thing About Leaving

I realized last night that almost all the major life events as an adult have happened to me during my time here.

Kelley and I were married in January of 2007.

Grady was born in September.

Eli was adopted in May 2008.

Rosie was born in January 2009.

With you you guys around, I’ve seen the addition of every child into my family. Through the scares we’ve experienced, you all have supported us with your prayers and love. And now with my exit, your support and encouragement is unfailing.

The thing about leaving is it’s only geography. Twenty years from now when I’m recalling events of Eli’s childhood, many of those memories have now been inseparably woven into my connections with you.

Keys

Later that evening we went back to Jeff and Jodi’s place; a nicely allocated parsonage on the hill behind the church. We listened to stories and shared a bit of our own for the better part of the evening.

It was enlightening to hear some of the history of some of these fascinating folks. And fascinating to discover how parallel are the stories of the Helpmans and ours.

The salt trucks had finally made their way down the road to our cabin. Maybe we could finally get our van up the hill. Jim and Judy were heading that direction so we asked for a ride to our car. But when we got there I realized my keys were at the cabin.

They graciously agreed to drive us since it was only less than a mile from their house. Good idea. We’d get to see the road conditions all the way there and have a better sense of how our van would handle it. When we got to the cabin I reached in my pocket for the cabin keys and found nothing. I’d left them in my coat pocket which I just realized had gotten left back at the Helpmans.

Jim and Judy drove us back to get my coat and then again back to the cabin. By this time it was pointless to have them take us back to our car and then drive our car back to the cabin. So we said goodbye and thank you and scheduled a ride for the morning.

As I was locking up the cabin before bed I made an embarrassing discovery… the front door had been unlocked the whole time.

Everett and Depot

I’ve been reading this book my dad loaned me called Bryson City Tales. In it are stories from a local doctor about the local people and places that add the color to the City. I felt familiar with Bryson through this book and so many of the scenes were just as I imagined them.

There’s a lady mentioned in the early parts of ‘Tales’ named Debbie (although, she actually spells it Debi). She still lives in Bryson and was our personal guide around town even taking us to her house to experience the view of all of Swain County and the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, stopping on the way to help a stranded dad up the mountain to get to his little girl waiting for him at home.

At the corner of Everett and Depot is a coffee shop, Mountain Perks. This is where the friendliest people on earth hang out. It took less than twenty seconds for someone to fill my coffee mug, pinch the baby’s cheeks and offer their seat to a stranger. I still wonder if it was all staged. There was even a real Cherokee Indian sitting outside talking about the weather patterns. They say it’s always like that there. And I discovered there’s no use in asking for coffee to go because you’ll end up seeing enough people to drink two cups of coffee before you can even get out the door. Guess that’s why they have the self-serve refill station.

They know you’ll probably be here for at least another cup.

Guayabidos and Front-Wheel Drive

We met Jeff and Jodi at the church. They pastor a group of people known in town as The Grove. The church parking lot was full of snow, pushed into small mounds around the perimeter. The front porch decorated in winter.

It was time for us to check-in to our mountain cabin and meet some friends for dinner. The roads hadn’t been cleared and our front wheel drive mini van was having a time with the icy-surfaced road. As long as we were on a flat we managed but we didn’t quite have enough momentum or the right tires or transmission to make the steep grade and tight switchbacks in this mountain town. So we rolled backward down the hill and parked our ill-equipped suburban transport in the parking lot of the church for the next few days until the roads cleared.

As it would turn out, this gave us the opportunity to get to know Jim and Judy a little bit better after our introduction on Saturday night.

Guayabidos is a Mexican restaurant just off Hwy 19. We met up with our friends there for dinner and conversation. And I met a new friend, Kerby. Kerby works at the Natahala Outdoor Center teaching folks how to paddle mountain rapids. I’m told he’s also a skilled guitarist. Most skilled guitarists won’t tell you they’re skilled. This is Kerby’s case. I actually heard this from other people.

Hopefully I’ll get to hear him play someday.

Blue Mountain Climes

We started the morning only expecting to see some snow once we got here.

Our travels began at an honorable time of day. We didn’t want to wake the kids and then have them grouchy the rest of the morning. And we didn’t want to impose on our sitters an earlier awakening than necessary. Still, we knew we had to make haste getting everyone ready and settled so we could launch out.

We had three routes suggested to us from three different sources. (I stopped asking after three because I didn’t want to know any more options.) The morning was particularly cold for Alabama — somewhere near 15°F. And the rest of the Southeast had seen the same; snow, ice and deep temperatures tackled Alabama, Georgia and the Carolinas for the past couple of days.

We hit Atlanta thinking it was likely the most travelled, and thereby the least icy. That may have been true but there were at least ten cars abandoned on the roadside from the ice and GDOT had only cleared two lanes. Fortunately, it only added about 20-30 minutes to our trip.

Finally, Bryson City.

Don’t Freak Out

We had our follow-up with the doctor today.

Everything is looking pretty good. She’s lost a little weight but she doesn’t seem dehydrated. We’ll need to follow with him again in a week to be sure she isn’t still losing weight. She still has a little junk in the upper portions of her lungs but she’s responsive, active and eating well.

The company I work for is amazing. One of the provisions of my benefits package is that I’m allowed time away to be with family in times of illness or other extended family emergencies (like this one). I have some paperwork to fill out. To this point the papers have moved between my agency and the doctor’s office. I got the papers from the doctor today but before he handed them to me he said,

“Don’t freak out when you look at these.”

Mmhmm…

There’s a portion in the documentation that asks the official opinion of the medical provider whether he thinks this condition could worsen. He says she could still have episodes of wheezing that, at its worse, could require CPR.

Well crap. Thanks for that confidence boost, there doc.

What else am I supposed to do with that other than freak out?

C’mon, man. Really. Haven’t we had enough drama? Let’s take a little break.

It is very rare that this could happen. But he wanted us to be aware. The best way to prevent this is to keep her away from any allergens; no pets, no mold, no dust, no smoke – no matter what. Or she could relapse.

Duly noted.

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The boys and I went and finished up our Christmas shopping for Kelley this afternoon. They both grabbed the same thing at the same time. It’s pretty cool. I took it as a sign that if they both picked the same thing it must be right. So we got it. I think she’ll like it. They have pretty good taste.

Presents to wrap and cookies to bake and decorate. Merry Christmas.

But Sandwich

We’re home now, which is better than being stuck in a hospital. We get to shower and put on clean clothes, cook a meal and sleep in our own beds. We’re able to enjoy the lights on our Christmas tree and the garland stretched across the mantle over the crackling fireplace. We’ve watched holiday movies with our kids and kissed the grimy-faced little boys we’ve been apart from for more than a week.

But we’re not healthy still. Grady’s got a version of what Rosie has. Fortunately, it only affects toddlers mildly. Eli’s appetite is low and he has been a little sniffly. Not a big deal under normal circumstances but considering what we’ve been though lately, we don’t take anything lightly.

Kelley and I have both come down with probably the same thing. For us, it’s a head cold but with Rosie’s RSV in its history. We’re both getting better but it makes it a challenge to care for a baby with nasty chest congestion and breathing impairment, a toddler and a six year old with a cold and try to make Christmas memorable for them.

What you will not hear from us is complaining. No matter how challenging these days, we are glad to be at home walking though this together.

As most of you know, our family is the center of our lives. And for us, when we are apart we feel it. So to be together, regardless of what’s going on within and around us, is more fulfilling than any other option. Especially during the holiday season.

I know we still have a week or so to go before Rosie is actually cleared. She has to sleep elevated for awhile until we are certain her O2 levels stay in the safe zone while she sleeps. To do this she is strapped into a specially designed wedge that helps her breathe and keeps her oxygen where it needs to be. The problem is – she hates it. It scares her. And her voice is gone from all that she’s been through, so when she cries we don’t hear her. It’s heartbreaking, really. She wakes up alone in a contraption she can’t escape from and can’t tell us she needs us.

Best I can relate, it’s like the dreams I have where I’m being chased and can’t produce the sound from my voice to scream for help.

Last night, we put the wedge between us in our queen-size bed so that if she woke up, we’d be there with her and maybe she wouldn’t be so scared. But due to its size, Kelley and I each have less than two feet of space in the bed for our adult bodies. Which only allows for one sleeping position; I call it the coffin pose. Toes up. Hands crossed across the chest. No movement allowed. Some people may like this. It’s a bit restrictive for us.

We’ll work it out somehow.

We have become more aware recently how connected we all are to each other.

You and I.
We and them.
All of us.

Your prayers over the past ten days have been enriching, empowering and enlightening. We have begun to discover more of the richness of how our prayers connect us not only to our Creator but to the spirits of each one of you. Please know that we are deeply grateful for all the ways you have given to us. Not just the last week and a half but in ways that we are very likely unaware.

We are thankful. There is more good news these days than bad.

Finally…

We’re going home!