On faith, an update...but mostly lots of rambling... :)

I'm not a religious person. I really don't remember a time in my adult life when I would have considered myself one. We regularly went to church when we were growing up, but not since my teen years have I felt like I was a true believer, I guess. I just haven't been sure what I actually believed. I have always looked at things scientifically, so it has been hard for me to rationalize religious beliefs. And a lot of the judgment I've seen by "Christians" had turned me off from digging any further into what I may or may not believe. I have always been convinced that there was/is something else, but that was pretty much the extent of my beliefs.

Until January 2, 2012. When they told us that our daughter had a life threatening condition. That we'd have to trust that the doctors could "fix" her. That her defect was extremely rare and they only corrected a handful of them each year. From my experience with doctors, they always tried to appear optimistic, even when things weren't so great. These two pediatric cardiologists who sat down in a room with just Chris and I that night at the hospital didn't put on a brave face for us. They kept repeating to us how serious it was. How it had to be done immediately if there was a chance that Britta's life could be saved. When they left the room, leaving Chris and I alone, for the first time in years and years, I prayed. I begged. I bargained. I pleaded. Please, please, please just let her be okay. I will never doubt You again, just PLEASE help my daughter.

After they airlifted her to New Orleans, we were scared out of our minds. Every doctor we came into contact with said the same thing. "She actually went home?" Meaning, they were astounded that she had somehow managed to survive as long as she had, almost 3 weeks. They told us over and over again how with most babies, these types of defects are diagnosed right after birth because they are so, so serious that they can't survive without immediate surgical correction. They didn't understand how we could have taken her home with her condition undetected for so long. How she was so tiny, but fought so hard to stay alive. They kept saying how fortunate we were that we were relentless in getting her treatment. That I listened to the voice inside me that kept saying to bring her back in. That something was wrong.

She was so incredibly sick by the time she went into surgery. The night before, I'd watched her stop breathing multiple times. I'd seen her heart stop beating. I had no reason to believe she'd be okay. But she had people all over the world praying for her. And as upset and scared as I was, I knew that she would be.

We were witness to so many miracles throughout her treatment and now during her recovery. So many specialists, doctors and nurses stood baffled looking at Britta and how miraculous it was that she had made it.

There were so many hard days. So many times when I struggled to see my sweet baby beneath all of the swelling and the tubes. So many times when I cried myself to sleep and wondered how she or we would survive this. But you all never wavered in your support and love and prayers. Those simple messages helped pick me up. They gave me strength to fight alongside Britta.

Now that we are back home, everyday feels like a miracle. Every coo, every grunt, every smile is a miracle. That was so evident today when we took her to the cardiologist. The same one that saw and diagnosed her that first night at the hospital. I've never seen a doctor stutter and fall all over himself so much in his words. He was astounded at her progress. How amazing she looked. How beautifully she was healing. He told us today, "When we saw her that first night, she was one of the sickest babies I have ever seen. But now, she is making one of the most astounding, beautiful recoveries I've ever seen."

How awesome is that? He also said that the night at the hospital, they kept trying to rationalize how her ECHO could say it was TAPVR, but she was 3 weeks old. He said it just shouldn't be. Babies couldn't make it to 3 weeks old undiagnosed. That she was the oldest baby he'd ever seen with TAPVR undiagnosed. That she shouldn't have survived at home that long.

But she did.

I try to remind myself of that. How strong she is. How hard she knows how to fight. Because I am still so incredibly paranoid of losing her. I watch her breathing at night, checking on her over and over again. The slightest change in her color sends me into a panic. But yesterday, when I was waiting for Hailey & Liam to finish up at their art class, I was chatting with another mom. I told her about Britta, and for some reason, confessed my fears. She replied that I just had to have faith. That if God wanted Britta, He could have taken her 5 weeks ago.

But He didn't.

That He has big plans for our Britta, she said.

Faith is hard sometimes.

But I think she's right. :)

***B's cardiologist appointment went super. Her echo was "beautiful" according to her doc and she is progressing right on schedule. She is eating wonderfully. Spitting up a bit, but not any more than a "normal" baby would and she is gaining weight! She is just over 7 lbs now at 9 weeks! They will continue to see her very frequently, but all in all, she is doing great and is truly a miracle.