Healed.

Well
kinda.

Whew.

What.
A.
Day.

Baseball game began Thursday night at 6pm.
At about 6:15 Jason was hit.

Smack.
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.

Spit.
Blood.
Blood.
Blood.

Turns out it was a 92 mph fast ball.
I know this only because the other teams pitcher is ginormous
incredibly talented
and was being scouted by scouts with radar guns pointed at him.

92mph fast ball
vs
Jason's jaw. 

At first I thought he had just lost a tooth or two.

Psssh.
No bigs.
We will deal with that after the game.

It's how I roll.
And I know it's how he rolls.
This was a big game after all.

But then after about 5 minutes of spitting up blood he said,
"Mom, my face is numb."
only it sounded like
"Maaww mi fasssss iz num"

And I don't know much.
But I knew at that point it was more than a tooth.

So off we went to the nearest acute minor illness clinic with xray capability.
They took him right back and
shockers
they thought his jaw was fractured at the point of impact without even doing an xray yet.

And a bit of trivia here for you:
Apparently mandible fractures don't show up on regular xrays.
Nope.
Tis true.
They said he needs a dental panoramic xray
or a CT scan.

Neither of which they have there.
So off we go to the local community hospital.

CT scan.
Fracture
Fracture
Fracture
on both sides of his jaw.

It was at about this point that a lesson or two from high school physics began to climb through the cobwebs in the recesses of my brain and I remembered something about force
and energy
and how all of that force and energy has to go somewhere...
And in Jason's case it impacted and then reverberated through his mandible and broke the other side.

Dandy.
Just dandy.

So a few hours later....circa 12:55 am....after communicating with the local children's hospital, loading him up with anti-inflammatory meds to combat the excessive swelling, fluids and some antibiotics they loaded him up in an ambulance and we were told to expect surgery first thing in the morning.

But God.
He is so much bigger.

I heart him.

Radiologist and surgeons at Children's the next morning looked at the images and saw the same fractures the other hospital saw,
but 
miraculously all of his fractures are perfectly aligned.

Perfectly.
Aligned. 

Their decision?
Surgery smergery
Let's get this boy home. 

Hold on...did you hear that?
H.O.M.E.

Yep.
It's where he be after only one night.

Woot!

He is on a liquid diet until early next week when he goes back to the surgeon for another round of images to see if the fractures are still aligned. If they are, they leave it be, because if it has held in place for 3-4 days....odds are it will stay aligned and the bone will begin to graft back together.

If the fractures are off set next week then they will have to operate, align his jaw and wire it together until the bone fuses back together in the correct position. 

Satan get behind me.
My God is bigger.

So here we are,
Saturday afternoon
and Jason is soaking in all of the love and milkshakes one boy can handle.
His baseball coach and his wife stopped by with the District trophy,
his teammates came by with a giant banner signed by his freshmen class and friends
our incredible, awesome, loving small group provided us dinner
milkshakes arrive at our house a few times a day
gift cards for just about every restaurant in town that serves any form of ice cream
a NERF bat and ball....which totally cracked us up
Love. Poured. OUT.

Thank you all for your support, the power of prayer and the work of the body of Christ continue to amaze and humble me each day. We are ever, ever, grateful.

Broken.

Don't know who is up right now and might be reading this but if you are please pray for our oldest son Jason. He's 15 and last night at a district baseball tournament game he was hit in the face with a fast ball that impacted his jaw bone. He has multiple jaw fractures on both sides. He was taken by ambulance late last night from a local hospital to a children's hospital where he will be having surgery this morning.

Please pray for our kiddo!

Updates when I can.

We Had An Intruder

last night.

It was around 2:55am
scratch that
it was 2:55am
because I rocketed out of bed and looked at the clock and saw that it was in fact exactly 2:55am.

And by "rocketed out of bed"
I mean I sat up bleary eyed and glanced at the clock.
And then I laid back down. 

But then I heard it again.
That noise.
A cross between something falling
and something being shuffled around.

So I did what all normal people do.

I laid there.

Eyes wide open.
Waiting to hear the noise again
so I could
ya know
better formulate my plan of attack
which I'm pretty sure would have involved lipstick, acne cream and a hairbrush as they were the defense mechanisms currently available to me. 

What I did not do
is what people do in the movies.
They always, always
always
go down to the basement to investigate.
And that's when they always, always
always
get slayed in some awful manner.

So I didn't go down to the basement.

Nor do we actually have a basement.
Which was incredibly helpful in that no-basement-going decision. 

Instead I laid in bed
waiting to be slayed in some awful manner
because that's better than the basement?
I dunno. 

And as I was counting down my last minutes of life a few things occurred to me

1. We live on a pretty heavily fortified military installation.
2. These peoples have guns...big, big guns.
3. I wonder if instead of protecting us they are playing cards or watching TubeYou which is why there is now an intruder in our home about to slay me in some awful manner.
4. I wonder what Jesus will look like when I see His face in a few minutes.

And then I heard it.
That noise again.

And it was then that I realized it was more of a Jack grinding his teeth at night sound
and it sounded like it was coming from somewhere around our bed.
So I ever so slightly picked my head up
(as to not startle the intruder, pffft duh.)
and looked on the floor.
And it was then in my bleary-eyed sleep fog that I saw Jack lying there on the floor.

AHA.

I am not about to perish.

It is just Jack grinding his teeth.

Oh happy day.

So as I settled back under my covers convinced I would live to see another day I heard it again,
louder and different this time
and as I sat up a little more alarmed and a lot more awake I realized....

that's not Jack lying on the floor next to my bed
that is the pile of clean laundry that I shoved off the bed last night and did not fold and put away like a good lil housewife. Jack is in fact sleeping soundly in his bed down the hall.

Oh dear.

There actually is an intruder.

Cue adrenaline and flight instinct. 

It is now 3:17am.

But the more I lay in wait
the more and more
and ever more
convinced I became that it wasn't an intruder of the human variety
but rather a mouse
or worse
gasp
a squirrel.

I haven't seen any mice here
but squirrels?
Well, they are a plenty.

And I heard it again,
munch munch munch
and again
munchmunch
scrape
shuffle

Yep.
It just simply must be a squirrel.
Though of course that makes absolutely no logical sense to me sitting here
well caffeinated, wide awake, in broad daylight at 12:10 pm
it made perfect sense in the dead of night. Justsoyaknow. 

3:27am.

It was then that I figured I had two options:

1. Wait for the squirrel to pounce out of it's current position and impale it's tiny little claws into my face circa Chevy Chase and the Christmas tree scene

or

2. Get up, close the door behind me, stuff a towel under the door so it couldn't get out, and go sleep on the futon and deal with said squirrel issue in the morning.

I would be remiss at this part of the story if I did not mention the fact that my husband was soundly sleeping next to me during this whole ordeal.
And that yes,
part of Plan B was to leave John asleep in the bed, barricaded in the room with the rabid squirrel while I sought refuge outside the danger zone.
And yes,
I still chose Plan B.

And yes, I am an awful, awwwwful person. 

Judge me.
Hate me.
Love me.
Loathe me.
I, apparently, have a strong sense of personal preservation.

So

I gathered my strength
took my courage
left my dignity at the door
{because you cannot possibly bring your dignity with you when you are leaving your husband behind to survive on his own.....asleep}
grabbed my pillow and tip toed out the door to execute Plan B.

I got out into the hallway
closed the door behind me
and that's when I saw it.
A pile of Tim.
A ripped,
torn,
unrecognizable pile of what used to be Tim. 

Yep.
That be'd Tim Tebow of course. 
Or..
use to be Tim Tebow.

It used to look like this

and now
well,
it doesn't.
And all that munching, scraping, ripping, sound?
Was Tim extricating himself from the wall of the hallway right outside my bedroom door.

Vindicated
and slightly ashamed that I was really willing to let my hubs die by squirrel death
I happily pranced right back to bed and was back asleep in just under 10.4 seconds.

The end. 

I hope you all don't think less of me.

Heck, I think less of me.
Never mind.

This Is What Happens

when you are small
have a low center of gravity
are incredibly athletic,
fast as lightning
and can squat like nobody's biness.

Your coach will near tackle your parents after a few practices and ask if you can please play catcher.

Because he knows you are good.

But hey,
we already knew that.

Welcome to the club buddy.
Catcher, party of 2.

I Stand Amazed.

Glory.
Glory.
Glory.

This kiddo

has a family.

This kiddo

has a family.

And this one

And this one

And
oh yes
this one

Glory.
To.
GOD.

All of these boys are going to be coming home to some pretty incredible families.
All of these boys now have a chance at life. 
All of their futures are about to change.
All of them have parents that are stepping out and stepping up
All of them are loved.  

Orphans no more
but now treasured sons. 

sniff~sob~ugly cry~snot bugger~snot bugger~cry~cry

Praise.
The.
Lord.

Can we make that one more?
Yes.
Yes I think we can.

Meet Bo.
20 months old. 

                                                                  {updated photo}

My sweet friend Kelly has been advocating for him for awhile now.


Bo is one of these incredible kids who will benefit greatly from care that he can receive over here.
But that he will not be getting over there.

                                                                   {referral pic}

He needs some surgeries
He needs some therapies
He needs Jesus
He needs you.

You can make a difference to this one.

Let me say that again.

You can make a difference.
You in your little corner of suburbia
You in the city
You on the farm
You can change the life of a little boy on the other side of the world.

His future in China?
Bleak.  {at best}

His future surrounded by the love of a family and being afforded proper medical care?
Incredible.

If you want to know more about Bo read this

and this

And then look at that sweet face with those big brown eyes

and.
say.
yes.

Make a difference.

If you'd like more information about Bo you can email Kelly at kellyraudenbush@gmail.com

Well

we are on day 3 of Operation Seat Up.
And folks,
I haven't sat in pee in 3 days.

And all God's people said,
Amen.

This was what was in my kitchen this morning eating breakfast.

What?
No big deal?

Hold on.
Let me zoom out.

Alrightythen.

And less you think it's just the 14 year old.
Here is the 15 year old.

15 was sound asleep last night after taking his brothers chair after 14 unplugged his fan.

Yep.
This is my life. 

I just picked this up.

And haven't put it down.
If you need me I'll be cooking.
Granted, I'll also be 300 pounds....but darnit I'll be cooking.

This man

has a habit of being in and out of our home.
Flying all over creation saving the world
....or something like that.

What he fails to do however...
is remember to turn off his automatic alarm clock before he leaves.
Hello 5am....so nice to see you.
This has not caused any marital tension at all.
Nope.
Not.At.All.
~Ahem~

This is my new favorite kitcheny thingybobber.

It's a chork.
Yep.
Part chopstick.
Part fork.
Genius. 

This is Joshua.

Climbing.
Climbing a rock wall.
To.The.Top.

This is Joshua 7 months ago.
In China.
When sitting at a table to eat dinner was too much for him.

I have no words.

That's bout it for today.
I have nothing on the schedule for today
well,
other than dishes
and laundry
and vacuuming
and cooking dinner for these fools I live with
and
ok well.
Nevermind.

Catch ya on the flip side.

My New Tactic.

Yep.

Seat UP.

I figure it's 8 that require seat up
and 7 that can't seem to remember that
and only 1...
uhhh that'd be me.
that require seat down

So I am surrendering.
Surrendering to the testosterhome that I reside in. 

The default position will now be seat up.

Boy mom's across America unite!
I just may have solved our life's biggest challenge.

Love,
your friend Sonia
pee-pee cleaner upper

I'll be sure to let you know how this turns out.

WANTED: A Family

For him.

Ivan.
6 years old.
Single atrium/single ventricle.

Can I be blunt for just a minute?
Yes?
Ok.

Let me lay it all out there.

Without intervention he will die a very slow and miserable death.

Slow. 
Miserable. 
Death. 

Moreover
he
will
be

all

alone.

Please.
Pretty-pretty-pretty please
someone
give this boy a home
give.
him.
life.

According to Joshua's {incredible} cardiologist Ivan will need the two part Glenn/Fontan surgery.
They are typically done a few months to a year or so apart.
After that, he should be good to go for a very, very, verrrryyyy long time.

Thus scenario 1 for him is the Glen/Fontan. These kids go on to lead normal lives despite the fact that they are basically functioning with only half their heart.
Which....
hello.....
amazes me.

Scenario 2 is if his ventricle is initially too weak for the surgery there are some medications they can put him on to try and strengthen it and then operate.

Scenario 3: His ventricle will not be strong enough despite medication in which case he will need a transplant.

His official file mentions some pulmonary valve stenosis but in the words of Joshua's nurse,
"that's the least of his problems." His immediate need is the Glen/Fontan.

Want to know more?

Watch this.

And read this

The Glenn and Fontan Procedures for Pediatric Patients

His life depends on it.

In case you missed it or want to hear my thoughts on taking a chance on these kids with more severe diagnosis you can read this

The Terminal Child

Anybody whose kiddo has had this surgery combination or has a child with Single Atrium/Single Ventricle please feel free to leave your experience in the comments in hopes that it will provide more insight into what a family can expect with him.

Rally the troops
circle the wagons
spread the word
link it up on the book of face
let's get this boy a family!

Shoot me an email at mommyof4jays@msn.com for more information.

Survery Says.....

He's good!

His ventricle is indeed big
but
it's not getting any bigger.
And those pulmonary veins that they couldn't quite make out on the echo?
All where they belong.

So the theory is that his ventricle was swelling from the excess volume it was in-taking when he had not yet had his ASD repair in China. When they patched it and his other defects, it cut off the additional fluid...as it should...so now it's just big...but not getting bigger.

Basically they now think it has been this big for most of his life it's just that no one knew this before because homeslice has had no cardiac follow up care post surgery as an infant.
Only they didn't call him homeslice....they called him Joseph.
They are quite professional about things like that. 

Raise your hand if you are ridiculously excited about this news

Can I tell you that when she was talking my whole spirit just kinda took a deep breath.
I didn't realize how slightly on edge and nervous I was for what might be coming his way.

He
on the other hand
had no idea what was going on other than all these nice people wanted to see some cool pictures of his heart.

He charmed the staff

he did really well with the anesthesia

and John and I had sort of a date in the hospital cafeteria whilst we were waiting for him.

Hey, we have 7 kids.
You gotta do whatcha gotta do.

When we got home my ridiculously sweet friend Julee

brought us dinner.
Which just speaks to my heart.
...and the heart of this teenager who couldn't wait to dig in.

 

All in all
a GREAT day.

Glory.To.HIM.

This & That & That & This

This I have no words for

He's 14.
It's all I can say.
Which I guess will also explain this

The contents of which include:

• A poweraide

• A quart of ice cream

• Box of Nilla Wafers

• Goldfish

• Oreos. 

50% of which I wrestled out of his hand and put back on the shelf. 
I am now questioning my mothering skills or lack thereof
and subsequently
his ability  
or lack thereof
to survive once he leaves our home.
Good thing I still have a few more years to work the kinks out. 

This

is one of just a few pictures of all 7 of them that I have
it's taken with my camera phone....
because both of my memory cards for my real camera are somehow "locked"
and I have no idea what that means or what to do about it.
Goog to the le tells me to slide a tab over
but there is no tab
so my camera phone and I are besties of late
whilst my nice camera and memory cards sit idly by mocking me with their photo potential. 

This sweet face spent a day with these attached to him this week.

He did great
until I had to take them off.
And that tape?
Is very sticky.
Just so you know.

He cried.
I bought him a yogurt parfait.
And we moved on with our life. 

I think heart surgery was less painful than that tape removal.
Just sayin.

These are socks I found shoved into the couch.

That I find disgusting.
7 boys people.
7. B.o.y.s. 

This

is a very cool cake that was on Army Wives on Sunday.

Yes.
I watch Army Wives.
Don't judge me. 

It's an ID card for Finn.
He turned 10.
Which is when military kids get their first ID card.
It's kind of a big deal to these kids....
though probably not to Finn...
cuz, ya know....he's just an actor and all.
But nonetheless....the cake?
Wicked cool. 

This is Jack and me
Jack and I
I and Jack
errrrr
whatever.
It's me and him.
Him and me...
oh hush. 

This is Joshua

whom I found sound asleep under the futon in the middle of the day
for no particular purpose or reason.
He's been doing that lately.
Weird.
Cute for sure,
but weird.

This is Jacob

and his first time flying a kite.
Love that. 

This is Connie.
Nurse Connie to be exact.

She is Joshua's nurse.
And what I would have done without her the last few months
....I know not.
She is one incredible lady. 

This is a sweet 6 year old boy that really, really needs a family right about now.

A post all about him is coming to a blog near you very soon.
Because I am not above begging or jumping up and down screaming,
"Don't you understand?! He will DIE without intervention. Please, someone help him!"
Yep.
I have no shame when it comes to such things.
He deserves it.
He deserves more. 

And that
that is all I have.
Tomorrow is a big day for Joey.
I don't expect to know anything for a few days
but when I know
you'll know.
Because I like you.

The end.

Her "Boo-Boo" Heart

Rachel.

Oh how I love this girl.
And her momma.

Rachel and Joshua dated in the PICU shortly after they both arrived in the US

and now Joshua is home and pink
but Rachel needs her miracle
she needs a new heart.

Please join me in storming the gates of Heaven in prayer for this sweet girl and for peace for the family that will provide the precious gift to her.

Here is her story which you can read the rest of right here. 

The HOPE of Easter...

When Christ was born, HOPE was born with Him!  But HOPE was never more fully alive than in His death!  This simply makes no sense in our human economy.  Had we been alive 2000 years ago and witnessed His gruesome death with our own eyes, I think it unlikely that we would have characterized that day as a day filled with HOPE!  That God uses death and darkness to usher in our greatest HOPE defies human reason!  And yet, tonight as I pray and beg God for a heart that will give new life to my daughter, I am haunted by the thought that her only HOPE lies in the death of another.  But those thoughts are far too "weighty" for my own fragile heart and I must leave them in the hands of a Father who is all knowing, all powerful, all loving, and fully able to handle the things I can not even begin to understand.     


I can not explain why God placed His sovereign hand over the life of a broken-hearted orphan, abandoned on the streets of China.  Or why through miracle upon miracle He preserved her life, and provided a way for her to finally come home!  Or why on this Good Friday, that "hopeless" little girl now waits for a new life that can only be found in the death of another.  But if the death and resurrection of my Lord teaches me anything, it teaches me that God can be trusted with things far too difficult for me to understand.  That trust brings peace.  And it brings a sweet confidence that I am welcomed before Him to ask with HOPE that this Easter morning will bring with it a new heart and a new life for our precious Rachel.    

Rachel's story has changed my own life in so many ways.  And I've marveled as I've watched God use her story to weave Himself through the lives of the people I love.  Ellie penned the story in her own words this week and it is proudly displayed on the chalk board in our kitchen for all to see!  And Kate... how can I even begin to write of the beautiful ways the Lord is working in her precious heart?  To hear the prayers of simple trust from her lips these days humbles me and reminds me why our Savior said that we should come to Him as a child would!  Such yearning for Truth leads to many difficult questions, though, and I've wondered if she understood exactly what a new heart for Rachel meant for another child... for another family... until she came to me and Doug this week and offered her OWN!  "I will give Rachel MY heart," she said, "and be the first in our family to heaven!"...as if she somehow thought this might be an acceptable exchange!  Suddenly the reality of the cross and what it's HOPE cost Christ came fully alive in our home!  The Gospel beautifully illustrated through the lips of an 8 year old girl!


Sadly, Rachel's heart tires more with each passing day.  Last week she seemed especially weak and several times I noticed her quietly removing herself from the giggles and fun to sit and watch from the sidelines instead.  On one occasion I slipped onto the bench beside her just in time for her to ask me "Why?"  "It's your broken heart, Baby... but soon you will be able to laugh and play too!"  I tried to encourage her as she wilted across my lap.  "Come on, Dr Fricker!" she said.  "Hurry!"  Listen to the cries of your precious Rachel, Lord!  Please, DO hurry!  And while you're at it, Father... would you give me a new heart too?  I'm quick to forget how broken my own heart is,... how hardened I've allowed it to become by the pain of the last year,... or how quick I am to nurse and protect my wounded heart when what I really need is a transplant from the Lord Jesus Himself!  I am painfully aware that my own need is as great as Rachel's.  And suddenly the message of Easter and the heart Christ died to give us both becomes more real than ever before!  Thank you, Lord, that even when our "Good Friday's" appear hopeless, Easter morning brings news that HOPE is fully alive!  May it be more true this year than ever before as we await news of HOPE for Rachel...

My Predicament

in running a house with a slightly larger than normal family.

Clothes.
I got it.
Each child has a hangar thingy bobber in their closet that holds a uniform for each day of the school week and a clean pair of socks for that day.

It works.
It works well.

I load it up on Sunday afternoons
and then as I do laundry throughout the week I load it back up.
Our mornings are blissfully un-eventful in the clothing department.

But shoes.
Oh the shoes.
There are 9 people living here.
Each person has one pair of tennis shoes
and one pair of sandals/crocks/or flippy flops.

Let's break that down shall we?
Yes.
Yes I think we shall.

9 X 2 pairs of shoes = 18 pairs.
Add in 7 pairs of baseball cleats:
18 + 7 = 25
Add in a pair or two or five of extra flip flops for me
cuz I'm the only girl
and I like to wear things that don't resemble dirt like the rest of these fools I live with
25 + 4 = 29.

Seriously?
What does one do with nearly 30 pairs of shoes.

Here's what I do now:

This is the basket by the back door where the tennis shoes/everyday shoes {and apparently the catchers mask} go.

This is the back patio.
Theoretically, this is where the remainder of the shoes belong.
Don't laugh.
I didn't even try and clean this up for before I took these pictures....
that's how much I like you.

See?

Help me Rhonda.

I bought that little shoe benchy thingy awhile ago but I have officially decided my kids are thoroughly untrainable.
They cannot
for. the. life. of. them.
put their crocs/kleats/whatever else in the little holes.

So here's what I need.
Help.
I need help.
What to do?
What to do?

This is me begging.
Puhhhhhllleeeeees give me shoe wisdom.