Saturday, October 10, 2015

Scans and pictures.

One week after going to the doctor, we had an X-ray.  I was completely unprepared for the emotional struggle it would be to take my baby into that room and hand him over.  It was a beginning of sorts. The beginning of something so much bigger than I can understand or control.  The beginning of something I never wanted to endure.

It didn't take long to get the pictures.  They had little things of foam to hold Caleb in place and laid a lead vest over him.  I "suited up" and stood near for the last two pictures.  He was getting a little fussy and my nearness seemed to help.

I had just a few tears as I watched them try to position his tiny body on such a big table.  The techs were so quick, so kind and they let me look at the x-rays on the computer before we left.  I wasn't sure what I was looking for or at, but I knew that my tiny baby's head was not how it "should" be.

 We got the radiology report that same day and I was so grateful.  Until I read the report.  The radiologist stated that Caleb had two sutures fused and one almost all the way fused.  There are four sutures in your head.  My eyes were wide, my mouth was open and tears overflowed. "no, NO!" I kept saying.  How is that possible?! He has no other signs that would lead us to believe that all of those sutures were closed! I prayed. A lot.  I asked a lot of people to pray.  I was so overwhelmed.  And at this point, I started hyper-analyzing every little thing that Caleb did.

I was sure that he didn't social smile at me because there was a delay.  I was confident he was in pain because he would sleep all the time.  I just knew that there was pressure.  One eye opened a little more than the other, so of course there was a coronal fusion. Any high pitched cry made me think that he couldn't be comfortable.  Finally I had to surrender, again, that this was out of my control and beyond what I could grasp.  This was something I could not handle and something I could not let consume me.  So I prayed more and pleaded for sufficient grace and to love my baby well.  And I prayed for a deep trust in the only One who could heal Caleb and help him.

After our first consultation with a neurosurgeon, we had a CT scan.  The doctor was actually super awesome and got us in the day after our appointment! I've never had or been apart of a CT scan before, so it was somewhat shocking to see such a large machine.

I fed Caleb in the waiting room a few times so he would be nice and full and ready to rest.  We were called back and She had me lay Caleb on the "bed" of the machine.  I swaddled him and kissed him.  Then we moved him so his head was in the cradle.  She had to put rolled up blankets around his head so it would stay.  Then she laid two lead blankets on top of him. I had to stand back for a minute while she did what she needed to do.  And at that point warm and helpless tears came down my cheeks. She gave me a lead coat to wear and I stood by Caleb's side, rubbing his leg and talking to him.

He was, surprisingly, wide awake but so content and calm.  He looked at me and I told him that I loved him so much and that he was the bravest baby I knew. I smiled and held back tears.  He had his paci in to keep him from moving his legs, but he calmed down really well and the tech was able to get a super scan! It took about three minutes, but we were in the room for about 10 minutes.

We packed up and moved back to the waiting room to wait for the disk of the scan.  I promise you that I did not let go of my sweet baby for even a second.  I held him and snuggled him close.  He fell asleep on me and I prayed for peace and grace and for everything to be done soon.

There are no words that could fully describe the helpless feeling that washes over you, as a mother, when there is simply nothing that can be done on my part to "fix" my baby.  It's a humbling thing to be at the mercy of the Hand of God and know that in all things -- that's truly where I should rest.

Here are some pictures of Caleb's head.  You can see that it's not round, but points out in the back where his growing brain is pushing his skull to make room. I'm pointing the the ridge on the top of his head where his saggital suture has fused together. I wanted to take a lot of pictures so I would remember and so we could compare after surgery.

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