Monday, July 2, 2012

Day 4 of Recovery

This morning when I came in, Sylvie looked more like Sylvie. A lot of the puffiness in her face is finally gone. Even as I type this, I'm smiling. My heart is so happy to see her again. Her fluids were negative yesterday, meaning she peed out more than she took in. This is great news! Her lungs are still a bit 'wet,' as they doctors say, so we want her to stay negative.

While I'm on the subject, still no dirty diapers. Pray for...ahem...poo.

They are also going to lower her dopamine to two today. For the past few hours she's been able to tolerate it, however, the true test will be if she can keep her blood pressure up during this nap she is currently enjoying.

Last word on Day Four, Shawn wasn't able to sneak down to the Ronald McDonald house last night for a few uninterrupted hours of sleep. He's tired. Pray he'd get to nap today or make up for his lack of sleep tonight when he heads home for the "Love on Emeline" shift.

That's it for the main update.

Here are a few more words about yesterday:

I left out how I was completely bummed. I planned to forget about it and move on, but maybe someone needs to hear this today. Maybe not.

Yesterday was a tough day; my worst day post-op. This totally took me by surprise since I was so proudly sporting my rose-colored glasses since surgery.

I think it all started when we weren't moved up to the Heart Center. There was a rumor that they'd move her up over the weekend, so when Saturday and Sunday passed us by and there we sat in ICU, it was a mental bane. Sunday morning was rough for other reasons. She woke up, but wasn't really herself. She was cranky and hazy and kept smashing her face with her left arm made heavy and enormous with lines and monitors. When she slept, it was restless, quick, and little noises irritated her. Her abdomen was large, firm, and warm to the touch. All little things that rarely bother doctors and nurses, but they bother the mamas. We notice every little thing and wonder and meander down all the possible scenarios, normal and terrifying.

A week ago, a fellow mother whose own daughter had open-heart surgery with Dr. Turrentine, warned me that we were in for a roller coaster and to basically dismiss all the goals and predictions for the day.

I vowed that I would do so.

But it is so difficult to remember to accept things as they come. And it is so terribly easy to hang on every word of these esteemed doctors and believe it will unfold as they say. I didn't even realize I had set my hopes on a weekend move to the Heart Center until it didn't happen. No one around here is a fortune teller. So today I am adjusting the way I think and reminding myself to take in everything as it comes, whether it appears good or bad, rejoicing and praying as necessary, in the moment!

This is a difficult discipline whether you are sitting in ICU or leisurely drinking coffee in a cafe or sitting through a boring meeting or watching your children play on the playground.

Each day has enough trouble of its own. Let tomorrow worry about itself.

Be in the moment!

Jesus told us this, not because he wants us to numb ourselves emotionally or wants to see if we can complete an obstacle course of spiritual disciplines, but because he loves us. He knows abundant life awaits us if we trust him with this detail.

Let's trust him together today. 


  1. Thanks Monica. So good to hear your thoughts in all of this, I hope it helps you in writing as much as it does me in reading :) Totally needed to hear the bit about taking things as they come and living in this moment. Still praying. Still Rejoicing with you as she improves. Praying for poo too!
    Love you,
    Lauren & Steve

    1. For me, writing certainly helps it stick. Thanks for reading!

  2. Okay. In the moment. Thanks for this encouragement, Monica! I'm going to really try to be in the moment today. I'll pray for your family to be there in the moment as well. Love you.