Blessings

I'm sitting here this morning listening to the rain, coffee in hand. The house is quiet; Tim's gone for the day and both the dog and Samuel are sleeping. Just a few minutes of perfect solitude before I start the chaos of my day. I keep glancing at the baby monitor, and even through the video feed I can't stop staring at my baby's perfect, peaceful face. When Tim left this morning I stood in the kitchen for a good 5 minutes, staring at the dishes and feeling the "Martha" compulsion to get my kitchen sparkling again. But then I remembered that Jesus was waiting for me in my living room, next to the Bible that I haven't had time (or so I tell myself) to open in a few days. So I decided to choose to have a "Mary" heart this morning and sit at the feet of Jesus. As my mother would say about housework, "It will keep."

I read this verse again this morning, especially after getting Sam dedicated at church last night. We had prayed so fervently for a child for years and had celebrated with all of our friends year after year as their kids were dedicated. So last night to have our names called to come to the stage to dedicate Sam is a moment I will never forget. We are humbled and blessed that we get to experience being parents. Little did we know when we announced our pregnancy with this picture that we would end up naming our son Samuel. God sure has a sense of humor! Our prayers have been answered in so many ways

We had our two month wellness appointment...well...one month ago. Finding the time to blog as a new mother has been a bit challenging to say the least! Anyway, one of our biggest concerns along with the potential for his ventricles to get larger was Sam hitting his first milestones: smiling and tracking. As we've done all along, we've had to trust that the Lord had Sam in his hands and that He was going to bring about the best outcome. By the day of his appointment, he had been smiling at us. And not just the "I'm pooping" smiles but genuine, wide-open mouth smiles. We were (and are) ecstatic. 

On top of that, the pediatrician did her test to see if he was going to track across the mid line of his face. With some of these cases, because the hemispheres of the brain don't have that super highway of nerves to communicate efficiently, the eyes stop at the mid line. But Sam tracked across the mid line-right to left and then back again, multiple times. She said he's making great progress and she's happy with how he's developing. His head size also dropped from the 100th percentile to the 99th. We have another ultrasound and appointment with the neurosurgeon on December 11th to make sure the ventricles haven't grown but with this progress we're feeling very hopeful that they will continue to stay the same size as the rest of Sam's body grows.


This whole experience with Samuel has stretched me further than I ever thought I could be stretched. It has tested my faith in ways that have forced me to gain strength and grow and as I take this journey through motherhood I'm glaringly aware of my insufficiencies. And every day I say to myself "when I am weak, then He is strong." He's the one who's gotten both Tim and I through this. I am in awe of the faithfulness and love that God IS. He hears our prayers, heals our diseases, and faithfully brings us through trials that ultimately are meant for our greater good.

Thank you all again for your prayers, support and love.

Shanna, Tim & Baby Samuel

Our Little Miracle

Childbirth is such a miracle. That’s almost an understatement given how another human being grows inside of you and at the end of 9 months you give birth to a living, breathing, screaming baby with a personality and a soul. If I didn’t already believe in God there’s no way I could have come out the other side of this experience believing any differently.

Before going into the OR

Our little man was born via C-section (which is its own miracle and surreal experience) on August 25th, 2014 at 11:09 am. He weighed 8lbs 9oz and measured 20.75” long. He came out of the womb crying, which marked the end of life as we know it and the beginning of the the most amazing journey we'll ever take. I will never forget the sound of our son's first cry; it's etched into the deepest part of my heart. He was whisked away to get cleaned up and checked out by the NICU team and Tim was able to be part of the entire process while I got sewn up in the OR. The first picture I saw of my son was via Tim's IPhone; with all of that black hair I wondered for a second who's kid this was. Back in the recovery room I finally got to hold him, and we were able to spend time as a little family before Sam got admitted to the NICU. Nothing existed except for Tim and I and Samuel's perfect little face.

Samuel Alan Browning 8lbs 9oz 20.75" 

Proud Papa

  

Grandma and Grandpa Hazard

Grandpa Browning- 3 Generations of Browning men

Fortunately, Sam’s vitals were amazing; we had been concerned that due to his condition that he’d have some trouble breathing and adjusting outside the womb (not to mention the fact that this is already a risk with C-section babies). His AP GAR score was an 8-9 and all of our doctors had huge smiles on their faces because he started thriving immediately, better than expected.  The head doctor of the NICU was there to evaluate him right out of the womb and immediately checked the ventricles in his head to help him determine if Sam was going to need the shunt surgery. He was surprised and glad to find that Sam's head felt like a typical newborn with no obvious pressure on his soft spot. He was tentatively optimistic that we wouldn't need to operate. 

Grandpa holding Sam in the NICU

 So in love!

Me and Sam in the NICU

The next few days progressed as normally as possible after having a baby via C-section, except that my room was in the Family Birth Center and Tim stayed with little Sam in the NICU at Emanuel. Although I had had major surgery, nothing was going to keep me from my baby so I had the nurse wheel me up to the NICU at 6 am the day after he was born. I wanted to increase my mobility each day to heal as quickly as possible. Words cannot express the overwhelming love, joy and excitement I felt at seeing my son's face each day, holding him and learning to nurse him. It's crazy how one isolated event changes everything about yourself and everything you've ever been and everything you've ever known in one second. We'll never be the same and we couldn't be happier about it! 

My 6am-day after surgery visit; totally exhausted and sore but couldn't stay away!

Little peanut who stole my heart

Grandma holding Sam in the NICU

Hearing test in the NICU-he passed with flying colors!

Sam went through his MRI and didn't have to be sedated; turns out that they use a swaddle system where the babies are wrapped up tight so they fall asleep inside the machine. Another blessing to be thankful for. We met with the neurosurgeon the next day and got another blessing: the MRI revealed that Sam does NOT have hydrocephalus (which is a "syndrome" and usually ensures shunt surgery is quick to follow) but just a slightly large head with extra large ventricles in his brain. Tim and I had a good laugh about that one; he's definitely OUR son. :) We have to go back in a month to have a followup ultrasound with the neurosurgeon to make sure that the fluid isn't starting to put pressure on his brain, but we're praying that the current diagnosis stays the same.

The "bad" news was that the agenesis of the corpus collosum was confirmed; the little bundle of nerves connecting the hemispheres of the brain is not there at all. However, the neurosurgeon told us that given how the rest of his brain is operating, his AP GAR score and that he's behaving as normally as any other newborn, that we should take him and run away from the hospital as quickly as possible. And that we should treat him like a normal newborn because that's exactly what he is. 

On our way home 

Time will tell what the effects of the missing piece of the brain brings as he gets older and starts approaching key milestones, but for now (and of course we will be no matter what the outcome) we are enjoying our little boy at home. To be able to escape sending him to surgery for the fluid in his brain was nothing short of a miracle. We were told that Sam would absolutely have to have surgery immediately after birth by two separate specialists. God showed up in a big way thanks to all of YOUR prayers for him and we couldn't be more thankful. We give all glory to God for His healing and for a huge answer to our prayers. We'll be sure to keep you posted with Sam's development and thank you all again for your support and love you've poured out on our family! We are trusting in His plan for our little Sam's life and moving forward in peace that He's holding Sam in His more than capable hands. 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:6-8 

Love, 

Tim and Shanna 

If God is love...

I want to take a moment and thank all of you who have been so invested in this journey alongside us; for the gifts, the prayers, the kind words, the love and the support. We are so thankful.

As most of you know, we had a positive appointment a couple of weeks ago with the pediatric neurosurgeon who said that she wasn't going to shunt Sam unless absolutely necessary. She also said that in all her years of practice she's never seen a kid with brain scans like ours not walk, talk and have a normal life. She encouraged us to prepare for some learning issues but after all the worst case scenarios we've been given, dealing with a few issues with learning to read, etc seems like nothing to us. It was the first appointment we've had where we've felt hopeful and positive about Sam's outcome.

We had our final ultrasound this last Monday and the results revealed much of the same except for the fact that Samuel's brain ventricles did in fact grow quite a bit. He will need to get assessed via an MRI once he's born, but unfortunately the fluid surpassed the growth rate that the doctors gave us 4 weeks ago, which means that more than likely he will undergo the brain shunt surgery. We're still "waiting and seeing" as the neurosurgeon will have the final recommendation about potential surgery.

Here's the bottom line with all of this: our C-section is scheduled for August 25th (his head is growing right along with the ventricles so a natural birth is officially "out") and more than likely that day or the next Sam will be whisked off to the NICU to undergo testing and assessment of his condition. If the MRI results come back confirming pressure in the brain from the fluid, etc, he will undergo surgery immediately. We have a couple more appointments before we actually deliver which will tell us a lot more about the timeline and recovery, etc, but for now we're just counting down the days until we meet our little Sam!

Throughout all of this I've tried to be as real as possible. I think with a blog and with snippets of Facebook posts that people seem to think that we are amazingly strong and getting through this more easily than expected. I can assure you there are days when it's hard. It's hard to stay positive, to get out of bed, to remain excited about the pregnancy, to reconcile the fact that our loving Father is allowing something like this in our lives after everything we've been through. There are days when all I can do to make it through is to turn off all my emotions and lock them up in a box deep inside myself so I don't go insane with the worry, questions, fear, and anger.

And I think that's ok. I think we serve a God that's big enough to handle our honesty, our questions, and even our more "unpleasant" emotions.

However, I had an epiphany through the words of my dear, sweet husband and another amazing man of God that I hold in the highest regard. All along through this trial I haven't had an issue praising and worshiping God-that's easy. He is God, He is all powerful, and He is worthy to be praised. But I realized that how I have been viewing God was very clinical and cold. He's not some distant Trinity that only requires my worship and praise and sacrifice. He is a God of Love. He is my Father. And as a Father, He not only craves a relationship with me, He loves my Samuel more than I do, which is an astounding thought, because I would give my life for my son without a backward glance. He isn't a cosmic, twisted kill joy who enjoys inflicting suffering on the people of earth, whom he created. He doesn't cause our suffering, nor does he desire to watch us squirm under the pressure of life on this earth. Our suffering is a result of our fallen world-decaying and dying and a far cry from the paradise that He created. He does USE our suffering, however, as the Bible talks about. He uses it to mold us, break us, refine us, better us and change us. Every circumstance or trial or suffering that Satan's darkness uses to interrupt or make us question our faith, God's light turns into a lesson for our good and furthering of our character. And He does it because He loves us. We can't ever let ourselves doubt that love.

And those are the truths about God that I'm working on reconciling with the reality of our situation even though it means a vulnerability that exposes me-raw and broken before Him. God is love. He's a loving Father that counts all the hairs on my head, that knows a word before I speak it, that thinks thoughts towards me that outnumber the grains of sand on all the beaches of the world, that formed ME in my mother's womb and wants to give me good gifts. He wants me to thrive, not just survive, as scary as it is to open myself up to feeling...because with feeling there is potential for heartbreak. But without heartbreak and suffering, there is no experience of a Father's comforting hands picking me up, stroking my hair, wiping my tears away and whispering for me to trust Him.

As we countdown the days until the long-awaited birth of our very precious little boy, I am convinced that God has big plans for him. And just like his namesake in the Bible, I'm giving him back into Hands that are bigger than mine. Hands that will keep him safe, bless him, love him, comfort him and teach him, regardless of any challenges he may face.

Thank you in advance for your continued prayers! We can't wait for you all to meet our little Sam in less than 3 weeks!

Love,

Shanna and Tim

Rain

I’ve always loved the smell of rain. The way the grass smells greener, the air cleaner and the pavement cooler on a hot summer day. In Colorado where I grew up, it wasn’t this constant drizzle that we experience here in the Pacific Northwest when it rained. On most early summer afternoons, the swollen black clouds blew in dramatically and dumped their contents on the thirsty high desert ground.

I believe God is taking Tim and I through one of those summer storms right now. One minute it’s looking a little brighter, and then the storm clouds roll in suddenly and the sunshine is temporarily interrupted.

We had another ultrasound on Tuesday of this week and were able to see Sam’s perfect, beautiful face via a 4D ultrasound. We were awed by his little nose, mouth and even thought we saw a little hair on his head (which explains the horrible heartburn)! We were so encouraged to see that even though things on the inside aren’t exactly perfect, the outside looks completely healthy (including how he’s moving, growing, etc). That excitement was a little short lived. When we spoke to the doctor after he read the results of the ultrasound, it turns out that little Sam’s brain ventricles grew .3 millimeters from our last visit. We were hoping that they would stay the same size as our last ultrasound, but unfortunately, the docs see this happen more often than not in babies with ACC. With the part of his brain that’s missing, his body is trying to compensate for the empty space so it’s filling it with fluid.

What this means for us is that on Sam’s first day of life, he will more than likely go into surgery to have shunts put in his brain to drain the fluid into his abdominal cavity. If we opt out of the surgery, the alternative could potentially cause more damage from the pressure of the fluid on the brain. But there is still hope for a miracle; the doctors are basing this information on a trajectory, given the growth rate of the fluid stays the same. If it does, then we will for sure be sending Sam off to surgery as soon as he’s born (also meaning a C-section for me because of the swelling of the head).

We’re continuing to stay on our knees in prayer and asking for all our friends and whoever’s reading this to pray for our sweet boy.  We have our final ultrasound on August 4^th which will determine the final outcome of the birth details. We’re asking you all to join with us and pray that the fluid in his brain will reabsorb and that surgery won’t be necessary. I think the C-section is inevitable, but prayer for my original birth plan (natural) would be welcome too even though it’s not about me.

I’ll close with a couple of verses that are encouraging to me. Rain mentioned in the Bible always results in fruitful harvests. It has to rain or there is no life, no growth and no benefits to reap. God is faithful and the purpose He has for this time of hardship will be fulfilled and not returned empty, just as the rain that falls from the skies doesn’t return empty but produces abundant life-giving growth. We’re trusting and holding onto hope while looking forward to the promised time of blessing.

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven  and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout,  giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;   it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,   and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” Isaiah 55:10-11

Faith is a Choice

The outpouring of support that we've been receiving after sharing Samuel's story has been overwhelming. We are truly blessed to have such awesome family and friends in our lives to walk through this challenge with us. Thank you for your continued prayers for our little guy.

For those of you who didn't see the update on Facebook, our 2nd ultrasound on the 10th at Emmanuel went well. I feel like God was giving us some hope because Sam passed his biophysical test with an 8 out of 8!!

A few things they look for is that the baby is breathing (check), moving (check-he was also doing some yoga poses with his feet over his head), eating (check-it might have been a yawn but the tech thought at one point he was taking a big swallow of amniotic fluid), peeing (check-I actually saw it happen during the ultrasound) and measuring on track (check check-he is a BIG boy!), among other things. The amazing thing is that he did all of those things during this single ultrasound so that the tech and docs could have a chance to measure everything she needed to.

Also, in babies with ACC, the ventricles in the right and left spheres of the brain have a tendency to fill with fluid and sometimes emergency surgery is performed immediately after birth to put stints in to drain the excess fluid. But another answer to prayer- Sam's ventricles are doing just great! At this point in the pregnancy, the docs feel that it might not be necessary to deliver at a hospital with a NICU. That might change as the weeks go by, but what an answer to prayer! The diagnosis is the same: the projected outcome of how he will be affected is on the mild end of the spectrum because of this new evidence of physical health otherwise. We are so thankful.

On another note, reading through various comments posted on Facebook and this blog, listening to the encouragement of family and friends, I can't help but be amazed how God is already using Samuel to glorify His name. This situation has stimulated conversation between atheists, agnostics, fellow Christians and unbelievers. How awesome considering that he hasn't even been born yet!

It also got me thinking about how faith is a choice, not an emotion. If it was an emotion then Tim and I would have failed a long time ago (I'm sure that statement is true for most of us). As much as we appreciate the encouragement from everyone about how they see us staying strong and that our faith is admirable, trust me when I say we have our dark days. There are days, if I'm not careful, that I get consumed by the despair, fear, sadness, etc. But the light of God's Word is always there, a "rope" of light over the pit of that darkness. All I have to do is grab onto it with both hands and hang on for dear life. It's way too easy to drop into the negative feelings of grieving for Sam or feeling sorry for myself or entertaining the questions of "why" or "how" instead of making a choice to trust in what the Lord is doing.

That's why-among many things- I've been learning that faith in God and walking with God are choices. If we followed our hearts we'd be a far cry from the truth and where He wants us to be:

"The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" Jeremiah 17:9 

It's not easy to choose to be positive when your heart feels like it's breaking into a million pieces. It's not natural to "rejoice in suffering." It goes against all we are as humans to "consider it pure joy" when we experience trials. But it's the difference between living by the Holy Spirit and living within the confines of our flesh. It's a battle. And it's one worth fighting for.

Blessings to all of you and we covet your continued prayers! We will keep you updated with Sam's progress after our next appointment.

Love,
Shanna and Tim

Samuel's Story

Our pregnancy journey began in December, 2013 after years of praying to hear the words: "Congratulations, you're pregnant." The feelings of excitement and joy of finally receiving the desire and prayer of our hearts to start our family can't be put into words. 

The pregnancy started out with the normal exhaustion, occasional puking and hyper-emotions. Each time I ran to the toilet or ended a day completely dead on my feet, thankfulness was always on my lips. Each day was a treasure given to me after so many painful years of waiting, so all of the rough patches of pregnancy seemed like blessings.

By the time we got to our 20 week anatomy ultrasound I was feeling great; I had enough energy to workout consistently again, food started tasting good and the exhaustion was letting up. Not only did we make it to the halfway point, we were going to find out by the end of the week if we were having a boy or a girl. We were told that our baby was healthy and that he (our gender reveal dinner let us know we were having a BOY!) was measuring in the 88th percentile for size, which isn't a surprise since Tim is 6'4" and I'm 5'10". The ultrasound tech said she couldn't get a clear picture of something in the brain and even though she said it was nothing to worry about, she wanted to bring us back in 4 weeks for a follow-up. We didn't think anything of it because we've had friends who have gone through similar appointments. 

We spent the next four weeks doing everything normal first time parents would do. We went shopping for boy clothes, started dreaming about the nursery and Tim started talking about all the things he was going to teach our son. We came back to get another ultrasound when I was 24 weeks, excited to see our little guy on the screen again. He rewarded us with wiggling around the entire time and even sucking his thumb at one point. We were joking and laughing with the tech until a point in the session where she became very serious and focused. Call it either early maternal instinct or years of self-protection, I immediately felt like something was very wrong. She told us she was sending the pictures of what she was looking at to the off-site radiologist and would be right back. I'm laying on the table with tears already streaming down my face while my always- faithful husband is telling me that everything is going to be fine, that buddy is just fine. The tech comes back into the room and tells us that we're going to be put in a room for the doc to speak with us. Those minutes of waiting were harder than the 7 years it took us to get pregnant, the longest of our lives. 

When the doc came to speak to us, the look on her face said it all. She said that part of our son's brain hadn't developed and that he had a rare brain malformation called "Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum." The corpus callosum is a bundle of nerves that connects the left and the right hemispheres of the brain and allows them to communicate. Since this was her first instance of seeing this, she delivered the worst case scenario, that there would be a very good chance he would be severely disabled. I sat in stunned silence, heartbroken, not believing what I was hearing. It was like a bad dream I couldn't wake up from. Through tears and disbelief we left the doc's office and immediately called our church leadership for prayer and a couple of close friends that we wanted to pray for us. We could barely get the words out and at that point didn't want to really share this news with anyone. Our world, in a moment, had been turned upside down.

Thankfully, our doc scheduled a followup 3D ultrasound at Emmanuel hospital with the Maternal Fetal Medicine Clinic and an appt with a genetic counselor the next day. Neither one of us slept that night but I can't imagine what people who have had to wait for a week or two weeks went through. It was honestly the darkest, hardest night of our lives. 

We had our 3D ultrasound and the neonatologist came to speak to us about the results. He confirmed that our son did in fact have complete agenesis of the corpous callosum (ACC) but that it was an isolated condition. He said that was good news because a lot of times with these babies they have other issues: facial deformities, cleft pallet, shortened limbs, heart defects, etc. But at this point our son showed no signs of other issues. He went on to say because this was such a rare disorder that no one could provide an accurate diagnosis of how this would affect our son's quality of life but that the majority of the cases that have an isolated ACC end up on the "mild" end of the spectrum. He also said because it's isolated that more than likely this wasn't a genetic condition but just something that happens sometimes when things don't knit together correctly. The bottom line is that he could have developmental delays  (walking, talking, potty training) and issues with social development. He suggested an MRI on the baby once he's born to rule out any other malformations in the brain but other than that, there's nothing medically that could help us at this point. 

Even though it was devastating to hear the confirmed diagnosis, we left the clinic with hope. That's really all we have left to us.

We are choosing to believe in our God and in the promises of His Word, that ALL things work together for good, that He knows the plans He has for us, not to harm us but to give us hope and a future and that He's knitting Samuel Alan (means "asked of God") together exactly as he should be. However, we are praying with everything we have in us for a miracle. 

We are going back to Emmanuel today for a follow-up ultrasound and have been praying that God performs a miracle. We want to see that little part of his brain show up on the ultrasound and we are asking God to help it to grow. We understand that "scientifically" it's impossible for this to happen, but with God all things are possible. Even if it's not, we're praying that little Samuel will have a chance at a normal life-that he will walk, talk, learn, love, laugh-all the "small" and basic things parents want for their children. 

Tim and I debated for a long time whether or not we should make this public. Our final decision was based on that we didn't want to hide this under a bushel. We want this struggle to count for something and for God ultimately to get the glory in how He's working in the situation. If there is any good or light that can come from this and bless others, we wanted to take the opportunity to share it. Also, this is about our son and getting as many people praying for him as possible. Nothing else matters.

Here are some things we're asking anyone reading this to keep in mind as to how to help us:

1) Please don't pity us. Pity is probably the worst kind of torture when it comes to these hard issues. Not only that but it minimizes God's sovereignty and strength in the situation, like God made a mistake. But His ways are perfect and He is good ALL the time. 

2) One of the biggest concerns in sharing this with the world is that somehow people will treat our son differently or have a bias against him because of his condition. We are planning on (even if the outcome is more severe than we're expecting) to treat him like a normal kid. He will not use his "disability" as a crutch and we will make sure that he lives as normal of a life as possible-interacting with other kids, going to school, etc. He's not "disabled" until someone treats him like he is. 

3) Most importantly, PLEASE PRAY. PRAY, PRAY, PRAY. We know our God is BIG and is the ultimate healer. We know that He still performs miracles that fly in the face of "science" and we want Him to show his power. 

We'll keep you all updated. 

Much love,

Shanna and Tim