Gracie's Recovery, Day One

So Gracie and I will be spending the next few days in the hospital while she recovers from her appendectomy.  She had a really nice morning.  She was sweet and cheerful and sitting up, looking out the window at the lovely fountain and rose garden across the street from her room (seriously, I think they gave us the best view in the whole hospital.  It is beautiful!)  Nurses kept popping in to say hi to her, and she was so darling and polite to all these people who kept poking her and listening to her and messing with her.

I wasn't really that surprised when she grew cranky around two o'clock.  She needed to nap, and she's been through a lot.  Cranky is to be expected!  


But she went way past cranky very quickly.  She has spent the last four hours completely miserable.  

She has been sobbing, hysterical, completely irrational, inconsolable, doesn't seem to hear anything I say to her, and seems to be hearing noises that are not there.  She kept saying things like "Stop talking, Daddy!"  And Daddy wasn't talking.  And "No, it's not for the water, it's for the couch."  Huh?  There was no reasoning with her.  Nothing she said seems to make much sense.  And see how puffy and red her eyes are? 

It took us an hour to get her to take a sip of juice (that she had asked for) because she kept coming up with bizarre reasons that she couldn't drink it yet.  We weren't holding the cup right.  Five minutes to calm her down.  Then the straw was bent at the wrong angle.  More calming down.  Then she decided it was in the wrong cup.  We went and got a new cup.  More tears.  Then she wanted to pour it into the new cup.  Except she was shaking and trembling so much that it spilled.  On and on the juice battle raged.  Finally she drank a little juice.  Poor little lamb.  

And then she was writhing on her bed, screaming and calling out, "Mommy!  Mommy!  I want Mommy!"  And I was right there, holding her face, kissing her forehead, and she kept calling for me.  Break a mommy's heart!  At first the nurses didn't seem too concerned, but as this went on, hour after hour, Derek and I tried to convince them that this is beyond "I'm in pain and I'm sick of being here."  She was totally loopy, in a whole other place, talking gibberish.  She was telling me, "When my mommy comes back, she will pay me."  Uh, okay, sweetie.  

Anyway, it is suspected that all of this is a reaction to the pain medicine or the anesthesia.  They are not really sure.  She has no fever or other complications that would indicate infection or other serious problems.  There is no indication that there is any serious problem.  It was just a really rough day (and she is under the influence of narcotics, so we have to consider that.) We are taking her off morphine and trying something new.  Please continue to pray for my sweet girl!  She is asleep now, praise the Lord.  Praying that she sleeps through the night and wakes up feeling more like herself.  

And as I am here, hugging my baby and cuddling her, with nurses adoring her and popping in every ten minutes to see if she needs anything, I think about my sweet little Gideon.  

I wonder if he has ever been so sick.  I wonder if he has ever had anybody pop in to his room just to tell him how cute he is.  I wonder if he is laying alone in his crib right now.  

I think about Edwin, and his surgery he had to have a shunt put in.  I wonder if he was alone in the hospital as he recovered.  

I wonder if he was in as much pain as Gracie has been today.  I wonder if anybody was there to kiss his forehead and hold his hand until he fell asleep.  I wonder if anybody has ever told him that he is a beautiful and wonderful miracle, and that Jesus loves him?  

I think about how unfair it is that so many kids are left alone to fend for themselves, and that they don't have a mommy to sit by their bedside.  My Gracie is so small and helpless and needy today, and I wonder why the world is like this?  That there are so many kiddos who are small and helpless and needy and don't even have somebody there to hold their hand and tell them they are wonderful and loved and that things are going to get better?

I wonder why little four-year-old Camille has been left in a crib for four years.  She is in the same orphanage from which my Gideon was transferred.  Does nobody see her beauty?  Does nobody see the value of this little muffin?  Does nobody see what a gift she is?  People visit her orphanage fairly often, but nobody ever remembers seeing this little girl.  She is left in her crib, in a back room, day after day after day.  Nobody popping in to admire her, to tell her her voice is cute like a little mouse, to ask if she needs anything.  No smiley-face pain chart for her to point to.  Nobody hovering over her, coaxing her for an hour to take a sip of juice.  

There are 147 million orphans in this world.  And it all just makes me so sad.  And mad.  Sometimes mad, sometimes sad, sometimes ashamed, sometimes inspired.  There are so many children like Edwin and Camille and my precious little Gideon.  So many dear ones who have been left alone and forgotten.  And yes, I know I can't save them all.  Heaven knows I've been reminded of that enough times lately.  But still.  I can't just do nothing.  

But whoever has the world's goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him? ~1 John 3:17

I have seen the need.  There are children who are left laying in cribs.  So many precious children.  Some are hurting as much as my baby is tonight, and all of them have hurting hearts.  But unlike my Gracie, they don't have anybody there to tell them how much they are loved.  I am praying for all the forgotten little ones tonight.  Praying that Jesus whispers in their ears tonight and tells them how much He loves them.  And tells them that He has not forgotten them.