Not even 48 hours after my c-section, I was cleared to leave the hospital.  I was desperately longing to finally hold my son for the first time and the doctor knew it.

Walk by faith.

Upon entering the Level 3 NICU at Texas Children’s Hospital, I am instructed to wash my hands at a large washing station, a routine I would become accustomed to for the next thirty days.  I will never forget the smell of the soap or the feel of the scratchy brown paper towels.  I am led to a small room.  As I glance through the window, I see a large, elevated incubator with machines and wires galore.  I turn the corner into the room and see him for the first time. A heavenly vision.  An angel among us.  His fuzzy blonde hair gleaming under the glow of the lamp.  His perfectly round face and big blue eyes.  His tiny little body covered in monitors of every kind.  I look at the nurse and without having to say a word, she takes him out of the incubator and hands him to me.  In that moment, all is right with the world.  I realize then and there, that everything is going to be ok.  A calm and stillness envelope me.  I soak in every detail of my littlest love.  I do not see a baby with Down Syndrome.  I only see my son.  John William Martin.  My prince of peace.

Walk by faith.

After meeting with many different doctors and all of their “teams” over the next few days, we learned that John William suffered a stroke in the womb, had very low platelets and a small hole in his heart.  I tried to process the medical jargon, but all I could really focus on was being with him every second that I could, feeding him, holding him and smothering him with kisses and love.  In his first week of life, he had already charmed everyone, including all of his nurses, and had everyone wrapped around his little finger.  Family and friends took turns being with him because I could not fathom the thought of him being alone in the NICU.

Walk by faith.

I was still trying to recover from my c-section, while traveling back and forth from home to the NICU at Texas Children’s, learning all I could about Down syndrome, bonding with my new baby…all while taking care of my other two children.  Remember, I was still having concerns about some unusual behaviors Katelyn was exhibiting.  Thankfully, I had an amazing village that immediately went into action, anticipating what my family would need before we could even ask.

Walk by faith.

There is something very unnatural about leaving the hospital day after day without your baby.  It was heart-wrenching and I cried every time I had to leave him.  But what was worse was seeing the babies who we knew would not be leaving the hospital.  Oh how we ached for those parents.  So we chose to focus on the positive.  The fact that at least our baby would be coming home with us at some point.  He was improving every day.  We felt very blessed to live in a town with one of the top medical centers in the United States.  We knew he was receiving top notch care.  Little did we know that Texas Children’s would soon be taking care of not one, but two of our children.

Walk by faith.

Katelyn had not been acting like herself.  She was lethargic.  Extremely thirsty.  Having accidents during the night.  I thought maybe she was just out of sorts since John William was in the NICU and our life had been anything but routine for the past week.  I had her sleep with me to see if I could calm her nerves and comfort her.  Nothing like a good dose of snuggles with mom, right?  She went to the bathroom fourteen times during the night. I assumed she had a bladder infection.  The next morning, because I was heading up to the hospital to feed John William, I asked Cody to run her up to urgent care at the front of the neighborhood to see what was going on with her.  It was Sunday and our pediatrician’s office was closed.  So off they went.  I will never forget the phone call from Cody.  “Jen, Katelyn has ketones in her urine and her blood sugar is over 600.  We are headed to Texas Children’s.”

“Those who leave everything in God’s hand will eventually see God’s hand in everything.”

Music is a very important part of my life.  Especially the music at mass.  I find it to be a form of prayer.  A way for me to speak to God and for God to speak to me.  It reaches a place down deep in my soul and triggers many different emotions in my heart. Some songs bring joy and rejoicing.  Some songs evoke sadness and pain.  Some songs deliver clarity.  During life teen mass Sunday, we sang one of my favorite songs, “It Is Well (Bethel Music & Kristene DiMarco).”  As we were singing, I was overcome with emotion.  My thoughts went to this blog post, which I had written before mass, and as we sang, I could clearly see the verses to this song weaving in and out of my post, aligning perfectly with each paragraph.  Each line of the song correlating to the events leading up to the birth of my son.  I could see God’s hand guiding me through each moment.  When I returned home from mass, I decided to add the words to the song to my post, so that you could see how beautifully and mysteriously the lyrics intertwine with my past.  To see how God works in our lives.  His plan, my faith, my life.  A beautiful moment of clarity.

Grander earth has quaked before,

Let’s rewind ten years.  January 2008.  I had been married to the love of my life, Cody, for eight years.  We were living happily in a suburb of Houston, Texas.  I was a stay-at-home mom to two little girls, Katelyn, age six and Caroline, age three.  Then surprise!  Another blessing on the way.  A little boy, due in October.  We were overjoyed!

moved by the sound of His voice

In early September, Katelyn turned seven.  We began to notice a few changes in her behavior that we were monitoring and cautiously watching.  Our parental instinct warned us that something might be going on with her.

Seas that are shaken and stirred

In late September, Hurricane Ike hit Houston.  Thankfully, baby boy decided to stay put in my belly until the storm was over, power was restored and the city was back up and running.

can be calmed and broken for my regard

Sunday afternoon, October 5th.  I noticed I had not felt the baby move all day.  I had my 39 week appointment the next morning.  Should I just wait and tell my doctor then? Overcome with a sense of uneasiness, I decided to call my doctor.  He suggested I go ahead and come in to the hospital to be checked.

Through it all,

So we called our dear friend to come and sit with the girls and Cody and I headed up to the hospital.  “Be right back,” I told the girls, and off we went.

through it all

We arrived at the hospital and the doctor immediately hooked my up to the monitors.  I was feeling anxious.  My mother’s intuition told me something was wrong.  Sure enough. the monitors showed the baby was in distress.  They prepped me for an emergency C-Section.

my eyes are on You

My mind began racing. I began praying.  Please, Lord.  Save my baby.  Jesus, I trust in You.

Through it all, through it all

Minutes later, baby boy arrived!

it is well

Wait, why isn’t he crying? Where are you taking him? Why can’t I hold him? Why are you all rushing around? Why won’t anyone tell me what is going on?  My tear-filled eyes turn to Cody.  His eyes tell the same story.

Through it all,

It seemed like an eternity even though it had only been a few hours.  I was out of recovery and in a room.  I still had not seen my baby.

through it all,

In walked a neonatologist.  Why was she here?  She sat on the bed next to me.  She put her hand on. mine.

my eyes are on You

“Mrs. Martin, did you do any of the prenatal testing?”

it is well with me

“No.  Why?”

Far be it from me to not believe

“Well, we believe your baby has Trisomy 21.”

even when my eyes can’t see

“What is Trisomy 21?”

And this mountain that’s in front of me

“A chromosomal disorder, often called Down syndrome, due to an extra chromosome number 21. Instead of having the normal two copies of the chromosome number 21, your baby has three copies of the chromosome number 21.”

will be thrown into the midst of the sea

I try to process the information.  Honestly, I do not really even care about what she just said.  All I can think about is that I have not seen my baby.  I just want my baby.

Through it all,

“OK, so where is he?  I want to see him.”

through it all,

“He is in respiratory distress.  We are transferring him to Texas Children’s Hospital.  The crew is on their way now.”

my eyes are on You

But WAIT!  I haven’t even seen him!

Through it all,

She leaves the room and Cody and I just stare at each other.  Neither of us can find the words.  We simply hold each other.

through it all

The Kangaroo Crew wheeled him in to my room before transferring him to Texas Children’s Hospital. I was able to reach my hand through a small opening…

it is well

Well hello littlest love.  I am Yours.  And You are mine.

So let go my soul and trust in HIM, the waves and wind still know His name

It is well with my soul, it is well with my soul.  It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well, with my soul.

Earlier this year, I came across a saying that resonated with my innermost being. It stated, “When you’re in a dark place, you sometimes tend to think you’ve been buried…Perhaps you’ve been planted…Bloom.”

Wow.  What an amazing perspective.

This past year has been the darkest of my 43 years.  After the sudden loss of my father this past September, I found myself in an unfamiliar place, drowning with grief, weak and broken.  Struggling to find the strength that had always come so naturally to me.  Struggling to find the joy that my faith and my family had always given me.  Feeling lost without the man who was present in my life every. single. day.  Going through the motions of life, because I had three children and a husband who needed me, which meant carpools, school functions, practices, soccer games, baseball games, swim meets…but not wanting to…only wanting to hide until the pain subsided.  Walking around as an empty shell of my former self…

Until one day, when I decided to work through my sorrow by becoming the best version of myself physically, emotionally and spiritually.  To channel the pain and sorrow into something positive.  As I was coming up for air, I found myself re-evaluating how I spent my time and where I wanted to focus my energy.

I was starting to bloom.

Throughout my entire life, writing has been my outlet.  In the past, I never felt called to share any of my thoughts or feelings.  In fact, I am quite private. During the months I was engulfed by grief, I spent much time in the quiet. Listening.  Being still. Repeating, “Here I am, Lord.”

I now feel called to share my voice.  To share my experience having a daughter with Type 1 Diabetes.  To share the peaks and valleys I have witnessed raising a son with Down syndrome.  To share the “mom guilt” I feel worrying my middle daughter gets lost in the shuffle.  To share how I began to use real food to nourish and strengthen my body.  To share how my faith feeds my soul.

I would love to bring you along on my journey filled with laughter and tears.  A journey of faith and healing.  A Life of Grace in Threes.