I remember standing in church on a Sunday morning shortly after Stephean and I learned that we were expecting our first child. I had a conversation with God that morning about the life and future of the child I was carrying, telling Him that I knew the child within me was His child and thanking Him for giving me the opportunity to raise him or her. I remember asking Him to help me be the best parent that I could and telling Him that I would be thankful for every day that He allowed me to spend raising His child. I meant every word of that prayer, and though I sometimes find it hard to admit that she ultimately does not belong to me, I still have conversations with God on a regular basis about her life and the plans that He has to use her for His glory. She is His child and I am honored to be her mother during our time on earth.
Brooklee was born in the heat of the summer - July 5, 2009. I was the Communications Director with America's Junior Miss (now Distinguished Young Women) at the time and had prayed that she'd wait to be born at least until after the National Finals on June 28 (she was due on July 3). She did even better - she waited until exactly one week and a day after the National Finals, giving me enough time to not only make it through National Finals, but to also wrap up some of my job responsibilities and make sure everything was ready for my six week maternity leave - both at work and at home.
Brooklee was an easy baby, too. She didn't cry much and she started sleeping through the night very early. I can remember only a few times when we didn't get much sleep, though getting up every two hours to feed a baby can still make you feel like you've been hit by a train. Brooklee nursed well right away, never spit up, wasn't overly fussy and seemed to be the perfect little baby.
Then Brooklee turned six weeks old. She began to spit up a couple of times that weekend, but it wasn't until that Sunday that she began throwing up every time she nursed. I was suppose to return to work on Monday, so I made arrangements to come in a little bit late that day so I could take Brooklee to the doctor first thing that morning. The doctor was concerned about dehydration, so she gave me the option to admit Brooklee to the hospital to make sure she had enough fluids. I graciously agreed - being a new parent was scary enough without having to worry about your little one being dehydrated. I appreciated that professionals would be there to help me as Brooklee got better.
The downward spiral began there. Brooklee was admitted to the hospital on a Monday and it wasn't until two weeks later that she'd be released. During the first week, she was a patient at Mobile Infirmary. The doctors had no diagnosis for her and we continued feeding her breastmilk and sometimes tried formula instead. If she ever kept a feeding down, the next one would bring all of it back up with it. She was getting little to no nutrition, had IVs to keep her dehydrated, and had everyone puzzled.
Both of our employers were gracious enough to allow Stephean and I to stay by Brooklee's side - making our home in small hospital rooms that were constantly filled with friends and family. While I certainly don't want to sound unappreciative of the love and support that our family and friends provided, perhaps one of the most difficult parts of this process was having a full audience around the clock. Both Stephean and I are very private and introverted people and we were still very new to being parents and still recovering from having visitors come to our house around the clock to see our new baby. Now here we were again with visitors around the clock - forced to share every moment of weakness and frustration with a room full of people. Every time Brooklee vomited, a room full of people were there to witness it and watch you clean it up. When the doctors came to talk with us, the conversation was public - open for everyone to hear and give input. In addition to being tired and feeling helpless as we watched our baby girl get sicker and weaker, Stephean and I grew more frustrated and began to take it out on each other. I remember leaving our room on several occasions to find an empty hallway where I could cry.
Finally on Sunday, the doctor transferred her to USA Children and Women's Hospital. Upon arrival, we were told that a milk protein intolerance was suspected and that if I planned to continue breastfeeding after Brooklee got better, I should eliminate dairy, eggs, peanuts, red meat, shell fish, soy, chicken, wheat, and corn from my diet. Until she got better they put her on a special formula and began to perform many tests to rule out other issues, including a spinal tap to rule out meningitis. We knew that Brooklee would never remember this traumatic experience, but it was still extremely upsetting to know the pain that our new little one experienced with each test, IV and feeding/vomiting session.
All other tests came back negative and finally a procedure was performed that allowed the GI Specialist to look at Brooklee's throat, stomach and digestive tract. This procedure confirmed that a milk protein intolerance was the culprit, but we still had a rough road ahead. The milk proteins had been building up in Brooklee's digestive system since birth and left her body in havoc. Even after starting her on a formula that was dairy and soy free, her body still rejected food and she continued to get paler, weaker and skinnier. She was put on a feeding tube that helped deliver food directly to her stomach in small amounts around the clock, ensuring that she was getting some nutrition, but at first her body still wouldn't digest it. We feared that her digestive system would completely shut down.
Stephean and I finally asked for the doctor to post a "no visitors" sign on our door and told our families that we would not be seeing visitors for a couple of days. We spent some time getting to know our little girl - learning how to comfort and love her in times of pain. We began to enjoy the privacy of our room, learning to lean on each other during the hard times. Churches, friends and family sent cards, notes, text messages, and gifts to let us know that they were praying. Brooklee was placed on the prayer list at several churches and we were told that a few churches even held a special time of prayer for her.We began to feel stronger and Brooklee began to feel better. We recognized that prayer was working!
Toward the end of the last week of Brooklee's stay at USA, she finally began to keep some of her feedings down. The doctor began checking in on a regular basis, keeping us posted on her progress. We monitored her weight and kept up with how many feedings she had to keep down so the tube could be removed. When the tube was finally removed, we began to anticipate the moment when the doctor would allow us to take Brooklee home. Finally, on a Monday afternoon, that day came. After two full weeks of hospitalization, Brookee was finally gaining weight, keeping her food down and regaining her color and energy. We were elated!
It's been about a year and a half since then. Brooklee will be two in a few months and is able to eat most anything she wants, though we still give her soy milk and avoid ice cream, yogurt and other pure dairy products. I was able to resume nursing her after she gained enough weight, though I had to eliminate foods with the nine major allergens for almost the entire year. Now she's healthy and smart, and it would be an understatement to say that she's the center of our lives.
Many people have asked us about our experience with Brooklee's sickness and have commented on how close we were to losing her. Though we knew that at the time, I can honestly say that losing her was never a concern for me. Through I was frustrated with the circumstances, overwhelmed with sadness for her pain and desperate for someone to tell us what was wrong with her, I had a peace the entire time that my little girl was in God's hands and He would take care of her. I never doubted it.
During those two weeks I remembered often the conversation that I had with God that morning in church and would remind God of my prayer to Him for Brooklee's life. I told Him that I knew she was His child and that I trusted Him to take care of her. I remember the peace He gave me. I knew that this time of hardship would pass and that Brooklee would be okay.
I can't say that I will always be as strong as I was when Brooklee was sick. The strength that I had during that time was not something that I expected or can explain other than to say it was God's way of helping me through that tough time. I don't know the reasons for Brooklee's sickness, but I know that she is His child and that His plan for her life is greater than anything I could ever imagine for her.
I am thankful to God for blessing us with Brooklee. I know that He has and will continue to use her life to impact others - starting with her parents.
