helpless...

Exhale.

What a few days it's been.  I'm exhausted.  Ragged.  Helpless.  Surviving.

It'll be okay.  He'll be okay.  It's just what it is right now.

Maybe I shouldn't type now while I'm at a low, but y'all know me.  That's when I feel like I need to write.

What's so wonderful about having a newborn in your home is all the joy he/she brings.  Marc and I have been so UNBELIEVABLY happy this past week since adopting Jameson, and we love this little boy as if he came out of my tummy.  Caroline announces to every cash register worker at the grocery store, "We have a new baby!" and I totally understand why-- the excitement and joy Jameson has brought to our family is worth screaming from the mountaintops!

But the flip side of loving this precious baby is the pain of watching him suffer, and the feeling of helplessness is downright torturous to any loving mama.

After last week's diagnosis and treatment of croup, Jameson's breathing settled down and things were looking up, except for the fact that both of his eyes have been constantly oozing with yellowish pus.  (I know.  Gross.  Sorry.)  Our pediatrician originally thought that it was because his tear ducts had not yet opened up, so we were massaging them all week in hopes of helping the gunk in his eyes go away.  But in the past few days, we noticed much more struggle with breathing after feedings, to the point that it was too scary to ignore.

So we made the 4am pilgrimage to the emergency room, (every parent knows what that's like) where they ran tests and took another chest xray.  We also followed up the same day with his pediatrician, and found he has a double ear infection in addition to the croup stuff.

Sigh.  I know this is typical parenthood, but it's sad.


Thankfully, my heart was relieved when Marc snapped this picture from the emergency room and emailed it to me.  (I had to stay home with Caroline until I dropped her off at preschool in the morning.)

It was the first picture we've caught of Jameson smiling.

From the ER, of all places.

But to an anxious mama in the middle of the night, this picture warmed my soul as if he was saying, "It's okay, Mom.  You've got me right where I'm supposed to be.  And I'm gonna be A-okay."

I still can't stop staring at it.


There's just something SO not right about this picture.

But then again, there's something so amazing about it, too.  As I look at Marc's hands gently pressing Jameson snugly against him, I weep that the Lord saw fit to place this little boy into our family.  He knew Jameson would need some help in his first weeks of life.  Perhaps help that his birthfamily would not have been able to get him.

This picture reminds me (yet again) of the love MY heavenly Father has for me in my own weakness.


Taking me into His arms.  Sustaining me with each breath, even when I am small and frail.  (Jameson loves steam treatments.)


And so we are waiting, watching and praying.

Up around the clock.

Hoping to see the medication bring relief to his fragile little body.


Jameson, we love you.

And you better believe this little family of ours is going to fight for YOU!