Panic. Ugh, the word alone can create physical discomfort within us. It can cause us to think upon the one thing, or things, that are causing us to worry and have fear.
I've been there and done that so much in my life. My oldest child was discovered to have a heart defect at his 3 month check-up. Panic. I instantly knew it was more than a benign heart murmur. Something in my mama gut told me this was not good. I immediately felt fear consume me and envisioned digging a hole, climbing in with him in my arms, and hiding from reality.
We moved to New York a month after the heart murmur diagnoses. My husband was starting Physician Assistant school there. The cardiologist found a pediatrician in NY for us and informed us that 90% of those with our son's condition do not require surgery. He told us that the body is amazing and often corrects the defect by the time a child is one.
We packed our things and headed to NY. Once there, I purchased plane tickets to return to Houston for our son's cardiology check-up, which was to be when he was 6 months old. We settled into our new home as best we could.
As scheduled, my son and I flew to Houston for the cardiology appointment. I was extremely apprehensive, but excited to visit family. My husband had to stay in NY for school. At the cardiology check-up, I was informed our son had to have emergency heart surgery, as his heart was so enlarged it was the size of his chest. Panic. I immediately called my husband and left a message on our home phone to call me ASAP. We didn't have cell phones back then and I had to wait for him to receive my message. I felt so alone. I felt so discombobulated. Within the time it took for the words "immediate surgery" to be breathed, my world stopped.
My father-in-law purchased a plane ticket for my husband and by that night, he was with us in Houston. I can remember holding my son and rocking him. I begged God to heal him. I made deals with God that if He healed him, I would do whatever He told me to do. I told God to take me if He was planning on taking our son. Panic.
As insurance would have it, we had to wait almost a week for the surgery to occur. I'm not sure I really slept that week. I could not take my eyes off of my sick child. I needed to watch him and make certain he was still breathing. I could barely eat. I recall being in a room with people, but feeling like I was out of my body. Panic.
Due to the severity of our son's condition, the cardiologist had us stay in the hospital prior to the surgery. I recall looking out the hospital room window and watching people walking to and fro. How on earth were these people functioning? Didn't they know my world was being turned upside down? My heart and brain were in such a fog. All I ever wanted to be was a wife and mama. How was this happening? So many things rolled through my thoughts. I could barely function.
The morning of the surgery was so difficult. The moment the nurses came and took him from us was torturous. I wasn't sure if that would be the last time I held my beautiful boy in my arms. I fell to my knees and sobbed. I felt I couldn't breathe. What was life without him? I don't remember how we got to the family waiting area after he was taken from us. When I think back on that, all I can recall is how I felt. Panic.
We were told the surgery would be about an hour and a half. I paced and I watched the clock. I heard people talking, but I certainly couldn't make out words. At the 45 minute mark, the surgeon entered the room we were waiting in. No. It wasn't time yet. I recall feeling like I had been punched in the stomach and I'm certain I held my breath. He walked up to me with the calmest demeanor and informed us that the surgery was over and had gone so well that he was amazed. I immediately threw my arms around him, thanked him, and cried my eyes out.
Later that week, the cardiologist's nurse came and talked with me. She had been in the OR with our son during the surgery. She said it was amazing. My tiny little 6 month old, 12 pound baby had done remarkable. She stated that his blood pressure and vitals were perfect during the surgery. She voiced her amazement, as well as the other's in the room. No one could believe it. She stated that she felt the greatest peace and calm in the operating room.
My panic turned to praise. My beautiful child had been left on this earth. I knew that wasn't something to be taken lightly. I knew I owed all my praise to God. I did not, and do not, take this gift in vain. I raised up our son to know his story and to know the Lord. I talked to him often about the wonders of Jesus. I informed him that he was greatly loved and left on earth for a purpose. To this day, I talk to him about honoring Jesus in all he does. .
My heart still aches when I recall the memories of that time. I am transported back in time and feel all the emotions - the pain, the panic, the utter relief, the love. I will never stop thanking God for our son's healing. I will always know that it was Jesus who held him during the surgery.
In Exodus 3, God gives Moses a mission - go save My people from the Egyptians. Moses panics. He asks God "who am I that I shall go"? God's response - "I will be with you".
Moses panicked.
God reassured.
God will never lead us to something to walk alone. Does it always turn out the way we beg? Not at all. God's ways aren't our ways. There is great pain in life. There is also great joy. Regardless of where we are being led-pain or joy-God is with us and knows.
Since our son's surgery, I have had many more panic moments. He needed one more surgery when he was 4. Our family has moved homes, moved jobs, been without jobs, made friends, lost friends, my dad has died, I've had to put my mom in assisted living, and many more.
One thing has remained constant during life. When I panic, God reassures. He doesn't always do it the way I would want, but He always, without fail, does it the way I need.
