It Was Way Too Familiar

Last week while waiting for our flight to Steamboat Springs, CO in the Austin airport, I walked up after a coffee run to find my sister-in-law, Courtney, frantically elevating Corrie’s feet with luggage as she lay on the ground.  Corrie had blacked out and fainted.  Thankfully Courtney and a random bystander caught her preventing any injury from the fall.  Corrie was awake and sorting things out when I walked up.  I was confused, scared, and didn’t know what to do.  At this point, an airport employee had already called 911 and we were quickly greeted by 6 firefighters and 3 paramedics…it was quite dramatic.  The paramedics checked her vitals, but her blood pressure wasn’t returning to normal levels.  They determined that we should take an ambulance ride to Seton for further tests.  After a 3 hour stay in the Seton ER and a generous visit from Corrie’s OBGYN to check on the baby, she was released because everything was back to normal.  We ended up cancelling our family vacation, and Corrie had a check-up at her OBGYN’s office a couple days later and everything is OK.  Bottom line, Corrie ‘just’ fainted (which I learned is common during the 2nd trimester) and everything was a little more dramatic because she was in a public venue.  We are very thankful for this and that the baby is doing great!

For me, this experience was way too familiar, and I hated it.  After caring for Brooklyn and quarterbacking most of the medical side of things, it became clear to me that God’s grace has given me the strength to care for my family in this capacity.  I’m truly thankful for that.  However, I hated walking into this situation because it scared the crap out of me.  We were in the same hospital that Brooklyn was born in, there was another ambulance ride, I heard the exact same alarms that told us Brooklyn’s vitals were off tell us Corrie’s vitals were off, and we were back in a hospital waiting for answers.  I believe we often walk through life expecting results/outcomes based on similar experiences we’ve had in our lives.  Although reality was telling me Corrie wasn’t in grave danger, history told me that this wasn’t going to turn out well.  Thankfully it was different.

I’m still processing this experience and asking God “Why?”.  “You know what we’ve been through.  Can we please have an ‘event-free’ pregnancy?”  I really want a healthy family and an uneventful pregnancy for Corrie.  After walking through hell, I want a break from crisis and for life to be easy and pain-free.  Unfortunately, that isn’t going to happen and there will be more pain.  The pain may not sting as much as losing Brooklyn, but it’ll be there.  If you know me well, I’m an optimistic guy…but I still believe this.

I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to avoid pain.  I follow rules, am nice to people, and stay away from extreme sports…except for the time I almost drowned in a class 4 rapid on my first day of whitewater kayaking.  We can try hard, but it’s clear to me that none of us can avoid pain.  This is why Corrie and I trusted the Lord when we decided to continue growing our family.  The emotions that flood in when pain shows up will always be real and appropriate, but we choose to stay in the game.  We have to.  God has given us today, we have a vision for our lives, and a hope for a time when pain is gone.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4)

-Adam

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3 thoughts on “It Was Way Too Familiar

  1. In my heart of hearts I know God is going to bless you both with a healthy child. I have followed your story, as heart wrenching as it has been (I love children and God has blessed me with 3).
    Adam I worked with your mother for years. I do not know you in person, but through your posts. I have been touched so many times.

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  2. Buddy, since pride is a sin, then I’ll gladly spend the next five minutes praying for God’s forgiveness. I am so proud of the man and husband you’ve become, and impatiently look forward to the great father you are growing to become. Love you, Dad

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  3. Oh brother. That’s good. And true. And joyful. And painful. But mostly joyful. Thanks! I love you a lot Adam.

    Shannon 512.644.1591

    Sent from my iPhone

    Like

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