Hannah Morrison

Family, faith, fashion, home design, and lifestyle

5 Things I Did for Me

This year has been wild… We all know that. Both the world as a whole and in my personal world behind closed doors, everything as I knew it blew up in my face a year ago [almost to the day] and… Although I didn’t ask for it and it’s been quite painful, it’s also been the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, to be honest. This year, I took back my life in so many areas. I said NOT TODAY, SATAN and started doing things that brought me joy, and I pitched the things/commitments/relationships that didn’t. I Marie Condo-ed my life and it’s been awesome. Painful? Yes, of course. I won’t romanticize the work of pruning. But, the end result sure is lovely.

Below is a list of 5 things I have done for ME that made me feel like ME again. I brought back hobbies and parts of me that have died over the years, either from stress or just phase of life. But, not anymore. I am bringing back the best me, and here is how I did it!

Voice Lessons: YEP! I have been a singer quite literally my entire life. My family loves to tell stories of how I would put shows on without hesitation in the living room and make up songs. I was in the best choirs at my 5A high school, sang at church, sang the National Anthem for games at my school etc. Then, in short, anxiety took over my life after some fairly hurtful and traumatic situations in my young adult life. And with those, my gift became a source of deep anxiety. I didn’t sing for nearly 5 years when I graduated from high school. And though I have been a worship leader the last 5 years of my life, my anxiety and fears have always bubbled under the surface. So, I decided it was time to get me back! I have been taking lessons with a worship pastor who, quite honestly (whether she knows it or not) has been equally a voice coach as she has been a therapist to me. She literally has made me preach the lyrics of my songs to empower me to find my voice again. I have started writing songs again and feeling a freedom in my voice [both my singing and quite literally] that I haven’t felt in ages.

Counseling: I have always encouraged counseling and always will. I truly see counseling as integral to your overall physical and emotional health as healthy eating, working out, and friendships are.  Find somebody you love, respect, and who has a life (private and public) that you honor. I love my counselor so much. And even when I come in feeling GREAT with nothing particularly to talk about, I leave a better person because of my time with her. As a wife, boss, leader of a church, mom, and entrepreneur… I need a healthy space to get poured into spiritually, emotionally, and to speak into my businesses.

Audible Books: I just recently started to do this… and I am such a better person for it hehe. But, no seriously… my husband literally just told me this morning he feels like I am being goofier and more playful lately – Overall less stressed. I chalk it up to having a fiction book going all day and allowing that creative space of my mind to work and floruish. Any time I have dead space to fill and could start scrolling on IG or turn on the television, I have started to do an Audible. I also turn it on while driving or doing my house work. It’s just been so great for my mental health. I feel calmer, my spirit feels at ease, and I even feel more creative in my work from filling my headspace with less social media.

Break Rules – Have Fun: I am a 9 on the Enneagram with a very evenly split wing 1/8. If that sounds like a foreign language to you – basically, I feel a whole lot of feels and can be very commanding about those feelings and equally need a LOT of structure. In seasons of stress, I tend to tap into my wings heavily. I have found as I have gotten older that my spontaneity and love for fun has been overshadowed by a need for structure and rules. SO, I challenged myself to start breaking my rules to give my boys a better version of me. A little less structure (within reason) and a little more space for fun. This has looked like ice cream for dinner, a picnic on the ground of our new house without plates, staying up past bedtime for one extra episode of Knox’s favorite show, snuggling in my bed for cartoons before 10 AM…. I have a lot of rules, which isn’t a bad thing. BUT it has become something I cling to for security when my life feels chaotic. If God is supposed to be my only source of true security, though, I need to break the tie to rules where they need the breaking.

Work Out: I have shared about this on here before, but my Peloton is a daily dose of sanity for me. Hopping on for even a 20 minute ride is so good for my headspace. I am a better mommy, wife, and boss when I take the time to get a quick sweat in. I love my bike and truly think it’s worth every penny spent.

What hobbies or life commitments can you make to bring back YOU. Whether you’re a momma trying to carve out space to feel like you each day or a working lady juggling the office and friendships, we can all commit to doing 5 things for ourself that make us our best self!

Goodbye, 2020

A year ago, I sat down and wrote my end of the year blog post reflecting on the past decade as we were entering into 2020 in just a couple of days (here). So many incredible milestones had passed, and as I sat 2 months pregnant with my now 2nd son and knowing that our dream of church planting was a very real conversation unfolding, I knew so many more were yet to come. I sat with expectancy, but also a bit of unease. I could feel God was preparing me for a life-altering year, which I thought would be a, b, and c. The things I had planned on. The things I had discussed. The things I had written out a plan for in my imaginary timeline of events that fit ever so perfectly together.

I have been as open as possible throughout this year and that it’s been, well, difficult. I established this space of the Internet with the intent of teetering the line of “too honest” for the sake of unity and cultivating a space of vulnerability, and yet I have literally found myself in so many scenarios that I literally couldn’t share about. It’s been incredibly hard for me. Whether because it wasn’t honoring to or it was simply not my story to tell, or -like discovering Rory was a boy and not the little girl I had thought God told me I was having- some things have simply taken me a long time to process. Many pieces of our story from the last year will never be told, and I am okay with that. But, I mean, truly, from NYE/New Year’s Day of 2020 when I found out I was so very wrong about what I thought God had spoken to me about the baby in my tummy, all the way to even today as I sit writing… this year has been the year of disappointment. (Or so it has seemed.) Seemingly every detail of our life has been blown up in some way or another. I mean, like, heart wrenching, nauseating, slamming the steering wheel screaming, gasping for breath in between tears disappointment. I have faced grief-filled months of waking up anxious, certain something new would surely pop up that day to cause more disappointment, all within the same months a new baby came to my family who brought me more joy than I could ever imagine. Joy and heartache aren’t separate -they can very much live in the same space- but navigating both at the same time is awfully confusing.

As I sat in the NICU with Rory, alone because COVID restrictions wouldn’t allow for both Paul and I with our baby once I was released as a patient, I would sing worship for hours weeping over … everything. Literally, everything ha. God had told me to name Rory, Rory Liam, because it meant “Protector King. And that through my pregnancy I was going to gain trust in God as our Protector King. And then, as I sat in the most uncomfortable rocking chair surely not designed with postpartum moms recovering with a 2nd degree tear in mind, I would ask God, “You are sure you see what is happening… right? Because, I mean, this is starting to feel a bit cruel if you do. If you’re our Protector King why the $%#$^ am I sitting here in the NICU with my son after everything we’ve been through?” I remember leaving the house one day to see Rory, telling my parents how mad I was. “It’s not supposed to be this way!” I wept in the kitchen wanting to throw glass or plates or something that would show how down right angry I was, not only about my child who for some reason wasn’t breathing on his own correctly, but the way everything in our life seemed to be going. It was exhausting. I was exhausted. My spirit was exhausted. My faith was running thin. How can I keep being “a good Christian” when I feel so angry about how seemingly unfair life appears right now?

I literally am weeping all over again writing this, because oh my gosh I see the fruit on the other side of our hurt. But, y’all, I am here to tell you I have felt seemingly betrayed by God before. I know the feeling. I know what it feels like to think “WHY ME? THIS MUST BE A JOKE.” I am also here to tell you, friend, that He is always working. He is always working on your behalf. Ugh, I know. When you’re in the middle of the storm, hearing phrases like that feels so silly. “Oh sure, He’s working for me… How kind of him to do… absolutely nothing I can see for a glimpse of hope today.” Mhmmm, I can write it out in confidence now, because I am healed from that season. Although, hear me when I say that recovery is a longer process than the initial healing. When you get a sport’s injury, the bone may be healed after time in a cast and it may grow easier to share about what happened when people ask without wanting to burst into tears. However, the physical therapy to keep fixing what was damaged takes longer. Often times you get to play back in the game, but see the PT for a good taping before the game. Let’s say I am in the PT phase hehe. But I am no stranger to feeling hopeless and cynical. And I am sure some of you have felt that before, too. Others of you may even feel exactly like that today as you read. Come. Sit a bit longer. Let me pass a virtual cup of coffee across the computer screen to you and encourage you. In some of my darkest days of 2020, I read the story of David and Saul. David was a man after God’s heart who saw confusing, treacherous days in between the word spoken and the promise fulfilled for his life. And yet, in face of adversity, David always chose honor and to trust God. It was like ointment on my wounds every day when I read what David did, and I saw the same fruit David received in our own life so tangibly every time we exchanged curses for blessing . With every ounce possible within us, we’ve fought to bless the spaces the devil has fought so hard to crush. When the pain and confusion of 2020 didn’t stop -with every new lockdown, every new personal trial, every new unknown that knocked on our door holding hands with our unwelcome friend, Heartache- I clung to the story of David.

When slander and lies came our way, God blessed us so abundantly in other areas of our life.

When we ached to have our baby boy home, He worked miracle after miracle inside the NICU for Rory.

When people we loved walked away, He blessed us ten-fold.

When we stepped out in faith over and over and over toward what we knew was for us, He blessed every step more than we could have asked, hoped or imagined.

God is so sweet. It has somehow worked out that in 2020, in the midst of such pain and confusion, I also experienced the nearness of God in ways I have never known in such a way until this year in desperate need. I have never needed to deeply know God the warrior like I did this year. I have never needed to know God the fierce protector like I did this year. And, it made me fall more in love with my God than I ever have before. This year, though I hope for one never again quite like it, I can say I am better for it. I can say my marriage is better for it. I can say my family has clearer vision for it.

If you are still in the thick of asking God if He sees what’s happening… I get it. Allow yourself to feel that. Allow yourself to be angry. BUT, surround yourself with people who see the good with you and for you when you don’t have the eyes for it. And, stay in scripture. If we don’t remind ourselves of truth consistently about God’s character… then it can be really easy to rewrite a narrative about it that is straight from the lips of the Devil. When Rory turned blue in my arms for the third time and had to be resuscitated, I so desperately wanted to throw a fist up to God. Peace out, man. You’ve clearly left us.

Community and scripture didn’t let me.

Renew your mind daily in truth. Water it, even in the middle of a drought. You gotta keep it fresh. And then, as you know I probably was going here… You will see how good it was. YEP. The sucky things of 2020… it’s for your good. God didn’t design crappy things to happen (don’t get that twisted). Sin in a broken world welcomed crappy things into God’s perfect design. But, God is the only thing or person capable of making crappy, good. I know it is true for you, too. I pray you can see it. I pray you can know it.

I am charging into 2021 with excitement. Not only because I want the heck out of 2020 (hehe) but also because I feel equipped. I feel prepared. I see the mountains ahead for us to climb and I can’t WAIT to do it. I truly believe more is to come that I could have ever dreamt, but it wouldn’t be appreciated if I hadn’t tiptoed on the floor of hell and back this year. You know what I mean?

So, friend. I see you. I see you exhausted after the insanity EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US faced this year. Literally, every single one of us. But man, I hope you can see the fruit of the struggle. I know I am grateful for it. Happy New Year, friend. I am believing the best is yet to come for you, too.

Our Family Christmas Photos

They’re here, they’re here! I wasn’t sure when I wanted to share these, but as you all are navigating your own Christmas sessions, I wanted to go ahead and share our family shoot this year as aid for poses/outfits/inspo! Of all the years of Christmas photos we have done with Hannah H. from Cottonwood Road Photography… these are without a doubt our favorite to date. I shared a bit more about our outfits on this post and want to give another shoutout to Sydney Grace Beauty who made me feel like an absolute rockstar. I don’t do makeup at all, and it was so fun to get my face done for these, because Lord knows I could never do my eye shadow like this… hehe.

2020 has without a doubt been such a wild year for everybody. And it’s arguably been the hardest year by circumstance we’ve ever faced in our family. And yet… the most full, life-giving, joyful one. I mean it. I am not just saying that because it’s the Christian thing to say. I mean it with every ounce of my being. We have experienced heartache and slander and hurt we never thought we’d have to journey through. We’ve experienced a pandemic, being pregnant and having to go to appointments alone. A hospitalization at 22 weeks, a perfect newborn baby in the NICU… we’ve experienced lost dreams and squashed expectations.

But there is always hope.

Today, as I share these photos, I truly hope you see a family who has been through hell this year. And yet, we smile. We are genuinely smiling in these. We are genuinely the happiest we’ve ever been, and it’s all on the other side of a treacherous season I would wish for nobody. The key to our smiles… HOPE. We know there is a hope far beyond this Earth for us. We’ve held to the promises of God through every high and low- not only the ones we feel God has promised us personally for our future. BUT, the promise that He is GOOD, FOR US, and NEVER LEAVES US. The promise that He fights for us. The promise that He makes all things work together for our good. The God who promised a Savior to His people centuries before they ever saw it come to fruition, He is the God who always comes through with His word at the perfect time.

So, we enter into the Christmas season *err… maybe a hair earlier than usual this year* with the greatest reminder of hope the world has ever known. Jesus was the fulfillment of all the promises God told His people would come at the exact right time. He is for you. He is the epitome of good. He is the best gift ever. He IS hope. That even when we can’t see it, He is working. He is fixing. He is healing. He is your defender.

This family you see in these photos, we walk with a new understanding by the grace of God what it means to cling to hope. In a way that truly can only be grasped by a season of NEEDING it, hope is alive in this family. And it can be inside of yours, too. I hope our smiles, at the very least, can encourage you today if you find yourself aching for hope.

If you’re in the north Texas area and have’t heard the news, my family is launching Cadence Church in the fall of 2021. This hope we have that got us through this year is available to everybody, and we want the city of Frisco to know it. It’s a year long process to plant and we are currently building our launch team. We’d love to meet with you, answer any questions, and ultimately pray that if you feel called to it, you’d join us!

xoxo,

The Morrisons

I seriously had to reel it in and not share 60+ photos… You can see more on my Pinterest! But the key to a great family shoot: happy kids and just “playing” with them while the photographer snaps away. Get to their level, laugh, talk, make jokes, tell them secrets in their ear. We seriously had so much fun with this shoot, and you can see it!

Oversized Blazer + My Current Devo

Man, I have said it before and I will say it again. Fall makes me thrive. It is my best self brought to life. The flavors, the smells, the fashion, the holidays. It’s my favorite. To me, fall is the most tangible season. One that illuminates every sense within, from head to toe to the very core of our souls. With it’s long awaited arrival comes the brisk air of hope – A change you can literally feel blow through as present as the pumpkins on the front porch and the coffee warming your hands as you stand in silence soaking it all in. An air of change that reminds you the best is truly yet to come. I think my purest joy comes from that first morning of fall when I step outside and can SMELL the change. You know what I mean? It’s the scent of a cold front on the dewy grass.

I wanted to share this cute fall look with one of my favorite recent purchases from Zara, along with my current devotional I am doing. If you’ve been around The Cake a bit, you probably have caught on I love all things Lysa Terkeurst. She is an amazing writer and teacher. I have read her books *she has a new one coming out that I pre-ordered already!* and I am knocking out her 40 day devotional right now. It’s as beautiful as it is enlightening. I am all about the history of the Bible and learning how the stories piece together, start to finish. If you haven’t ever done a study or learned this specific aspect of the Bible before, I am going to SUPER urge you more than anybody else to get this! But, everybody should get it. 😉 It’s a 40 day study through the entire Bible with a focus on longings of the heart. Ultimately, of course, leading back to the truth that we were created with a longing for ONE thing and that’s found only in our God. Our hopes, our purpose, our dreams, our desires… it can all be found in who God created us to be. And that comes through a relationship with him. I have found it best to read the First5 App that is also doing the study along with the book. I go there to read the scriptures and then dive deeper and journal with the book.

The Answers to Your Deepest Longings, here. 

The Look

Oversize Blazer: The exact one, here & Cheaper version BY Zara, here.

Denim Skirt: Here

Boots: Here *Black is backordered, but there are also other colors!*

White Tee: Here *I own in white and black for layering staple!*

Rory’s Successful VBAC Birth Story!

I cannot believe how fast this month has flown by. I don’t know if it’s because Rory’s first week was in the NICU, so we’ve really only had 3 weeks at home with him? But, either way, it’s gone fast. Rory has already gained so much weight and is doing amazing! He was born so tiny – 6 lbs 3 oz and is already 8 lbs 6 oz. The boy can E A T. And we’ve had absolutely NO apnea episodes since coming home. We feel so lucky to have a growing healthy boy.

I have been waiting for a moment to write this story for you guys… and well, I have a toddler and a newborn… So here we are a month later and still no post. I know y’all understand 😉 But, as so many of you walked through Knox’s birth with me and then now as I have been open about my desire for a VBAC with Rory, I want to share this story and celebrate with you. And, if you are also looking to have a VBAC, hopefully encourage you! It can be scary when you hear the potential issues of a VBAC and have “the talk” about the risks if you tear during labor. We really weighed the options and discussed a scheduled c-section or VBAC quite a bit. Both would get us our boy, which is the end goal no matter what! But, there was a deep desire in me to delivery vaginally. I wanted that experience if my body would allow it. So, we decided with our team of doctors early on in my pregnancy that we wanted a VBAC but were completely open-handed to whatever they felt was necessary throughout the process.

Fast forward to 36 weeks:

At 36 weeks, I started having very painful contractions. I was actually fully convinced I was having this baby early. For weeks, I was having preterm labor. And having been through 30 hours of labor before, I knew these contractions were getting high on the pain scale. But, after weeks of laying awake with no sleep and timing my contractions, I was still pregnant and getting real angry about it. And freaking exhausted. Finally at one of my appointments I brought up honestly how painful my “braxton hicks” were and my midwife suggested we do a UTI test. At this point, I had not mentioned ANYTHING to her. I know… I am silly. I just have a fear of being told nothing is wrong and being embarrassed by that. It’s a deep issue… a long story of my childhood before I got diagnosed with food allergies lol. No need to go into that today. But, I definitely carry a fear of doctors telling me I am exaggerating or making stuff up. Thus, I end up with UTIs for 3 weeks, pregnancy tumors the size of China for 3 months before having to have it surgically removed, and … well, a lot of other stories of me not being honest with doctors and having a way worse situation than if I had just told them the truth.

Finally, my last week of pregnancy, I had antibiotics and was no longer having contractions AT ALL. It was sorta a bummer and sorta a relief since it allowed me some time to catch up on my weeks of no sleep. Second, my due date was a little bit of a toss up since we weren’t 100% certain when my last cycle was. I had been tracking ovulation on an app before I got pregnant and had the 13th, which is what I also measured as for the due date my first sono. But, according to what I guessed was my last cycle, it landed me at the 18th. I am irregular and couldn’t for the life of me remember my last start date. So, I was either 5 days late or delivered ON my due date.

Labor:

I went to bed the 17th, discouraged like all the other nights I went to bed still pregnant, and praying God would PLEASE get this baby out of me. I woke up at 6 AM the 18th and felt crampy, but I wasn’t certain if it was UTI stuff or labor. I had already lost my plug over a week before and knew I should be going into labor any moment, but I was so convinced it wasn’t happening. Ever. (Ok, that’s dramatic.) Anyways, about 30 minutes later it became very clear to Paul these were labor pains. Yes, I said Paul. I was still not convinced… as I am pacing up and down our bathroom and having to sway during contractions. Like I said, I have a fear of being told nothing is wrong… lol. I did NOT want to go up to the hospital and go through all the COVID screening and testing to be told I wasn’t in labor. The more Paul told me it was time, the more fearful I got of having to be in the hospital and do the COVID stuff, wear masks while I tried to breath during the hardest workout of your life, etc. I started to bawl. I told him I didn’t want to go and wanted to deliver at home… hahaha. Not even an option as a high-risk VBAC. So, well, that got nixed real fast.

I turned on my worship and began laboring in the mindset that it was in fact labor. I calmed myself, began breathing in rhythm, and got focused. If you’ve ever been in labor, you know that half the battle for a successful delivery is your mindset. So much of labor is mental. Then at 8 AM it was definitely time for us to go. I couldn’t believe how quickly we seemingly progressed. My birth plans for both boys were to labor from home for as long as possible. And, in my defense, I honestly had labored from home for 3 weeks.. lol. But on the day of birth, it was just an hour and a half before we had to hit the road! We arrived at the hospital and pulled up to the ER, which is the only entrance allowed right now to the hospital. The nurses rolled up a wheelchair asking why we were there… and I think I was a few words I won’t say when it seemed rather obvious to me why the heck we were at the hospital. They had to screen me before rolling me to a triage room to confirm I was, in fact, in labor. So they took my temperature and asked me a bunch of questions in between contractions and murmurings under my breath (lol), and they rolled me to the next room for more questions and more vitals. Again, a little nervous they would tell me to go home. Then, when they felt I was in fact in labor, they called the L&D to come get me. It was not long at all for them to see I was having contractions every two minutes… Being a “COVID mom” is just so weird. It was such an odd experience trying to get to L&D.

From here, it was honestly a dream! They got me in my gown and checked me to tell me I was already over a 4. I was shocked. When I arrived in active labor with Knox, I was not even a 1… and they ALMOST sent me home. *omggggggg, it was awful* So to be told I was already a 4.5+ was an answered prayer. I was progressing and felt like this VBAC might actually freaking happen. My body seemed to be doing exactly what it was supposed to! I labored in the bed while they got me in the system, which took FOREVER, and before we knew it I was a 7. Legit like an hour or so later. Once I got to just shy of an 8 they had the epidural come in. My birth plan with Knox was non-medicated in a hospital, and after 9 hours of labor I had to get the epidural because I did not progress at all and my body was starting to struggle way too much (amidst 8 minute contractions and Knox’s heart rate dropping significantly each one). Once I got the epidural with Knox, my body progressed. Although, if you know Knox’s story, my body never went past a 6 because he was just not gonna come vaginally. You can read his story, here.

So, I decided early on in my pregnancy with Rory that in an attempt for a VBAC, I wanted an epidural to give my body every chance of progressing on its own to successfully deliver. I was super pumped that I had labored to an 8 on my own, though. It felt like sweet redemption in a lot of ways. My body COULD do this.

After my epidural I stalled out for a couple hours at an 8, and then before we knew it I was a ten and it was time to start pushing. I was at a 9.5 and my midwife did something where she turned and flipped Rory a bit and it was go-time. It’s actually all a blur from here because it was so fast. We thought they were joking when they started scrubbing. It felt so chill haha. Here’s where things got a little scary… There were moments throughout my labor where Rory’s heart rate dropped but then went right back up, so they weren’t concerned. But, it did make them watch him closely. Then, when it came time to push Rory’s heart rate dropped instantly and never came back up. We went from chill and laughing to tense in .2 seconds in the delivery room. After a few minutes and a big push, my midwife was clearly concerned and started saying she needed the hospitalist immediately. I knew something was wrong. She looked at me and said, “Okay, Hannah. I know this is weird, but I need you to give me everything you’ve got in this push or we have to do a c-section.” I was so confused!!! EVERYTHING had gone so smooth and so perfectly up to this point. And all of a sudden I was maybe going to have to have a c-section? I was so taken aback. So, I freaking pushed with everything I had in me. And… 13 minutes from start to finish, Rory was born. I pushed 5 times total – a vacuum to aid me on the final two. They told me I did in 13 minutes what most women do in two hours. I pushed so hard my eyes were swollen afterward… BUT RORY CAME! My whole labor time was just a little over 8 hours – a far different story than my 30 with Knox.

That moment they first passed my baby to me on my chest was the most incredible feeling. I DID IT. I didn’t have a c-section and my baby was crying and responding just as he was supposed to. I had successfully delivered a VBAC.

From there, you know things got tough for us if you follow me on IG. In short, everything was seemingly perfect, but because Rory was so tiny, he was technically “underweight” for his length. So protocol for a small baby is to test glucose levels every 3 hours. Rory was testing low and initially was taken to the NICU for glucose levels. But they assured us it was nothing and they would just do a sugar saline to boost his levels and he should level out. We were a little concerned, but other than the disappointment of my baby being taken from me night 1, we felt like things were totally okay. Then, we found out that once Rory was taken to the NICU… his glucose levels were literally perfect. Like… in the 60s but for 12 hours before that he was in the 20s. It made no sense. Before he even had the IV set up or anything, he was testing perfectly. The NICU nurses apparently were even asking and trying to confirm Rory was supposed to be there. It made no sense. But, since there had been 12 hours of incredibly low levels… he had to stay.

And, thank God for that.

The next morning as I was getting dressed and prepared for us to all be discharged I heard somebody walk in and ask to speak to Rory’s mom and dad. All I could hear was “Rory stopped breathing.” I literally was half dressed and ran out frantically to find the Nurse Practitioner for the NICU in our room. He explained to us that a nurse happened to be in the room with Rory watching his glucose levels again (which were perfect) and he stopped breathing, turned blue, and had to be resuscitated. I was horrified and began to weep. Immediately, all the perfect things that had happened and felt like were closing a chapter I so desperately wanted to move on from in our life were all of a sudden tossed in my face and rubbed in with salt. WHY, GOD? This MUST be a joke. Surely this isn’t happening. Surely I am dreaming.

Rory was having apnea episodes that are fairly common for NICU babies who are preterm. However, I had a full term baby and it made no sense at all. There were multiple times I held Rory and he turned gray blue in my arms. It was absolutely horrifying. The doctor said he was actually baffled by Rory, because everything was seemingly perfect about him. He had “no guide for how to navigate this situation.” Awesome… every parent wants to hear that.

So, for a week, we tried everything. We tested for everything. We prayed hard. Cried a lot. Screamed in the car. And begged God to let us bring home Rory. We also happened to have an underlying stress that our insurance was ending at the end of the month… So not only was I concerned about my child but I was starting to worry about the timeframe they were preparing us for and the potential we could be in the NICU without insurance. I was so overwhelmed. But, I clung to the truth God didn’t bring us through the wilderness the last 6 months to hurt us. He had been our defender this far, and he wasn’t going to stop.

Eventually, Rory’s episodes grew further in between and for shorter timespans. Every morning at 5 AM, or really whatever un-Godly hour of the morning we woke up, we would call the NICU asking if Rory went without an episode. “No, he had one at “x” time and then another at “y.” Every morning we called was a punch to our gut.

Then, we called one morning and they said, “No episodes over night!” We were thrilled. Now we had to go 24 hours without one and we could hopefully bring him home. Obviously, we made it the 24 hours because we got to go home with our beautiful baby boy on his 1 week birthday, and we haven’t had an episode since. They still have no explanation for why they happened, but I do believe with everything in me God had his glucose levels drop to get him in the NICU so that a nurse would see him stop breathing. I will never understand the mysteries and intricacies of God, but I do know He makes all things work together for our good. It was GOOD that Rory was taken from us night 1 with an odd case of seemingly perfect glucose levels.

So, we have Rory Liam at home. He is perfect. Knox loves him deeply. We love him so overwhelmingly. And, we are moving forward in our life with a greater understanding of God, our protector king through our son.

 

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