After citing the joy of “everyday-ness” in our last post, today, our 9th wedding anniversary, was anything but ordinary. We started the day early (early for Kira, who likes to sleep in, God bless her) and headed to the U of M for a post-adoption check-up. They are wonderfully thorough, so three hours later we were encouraged by what each doctor had to say about Kira’s health and development and we headed home. The long day of strangers and the dreaded blood draw left her pretty tired, and after trying to get her to eat some lunch we just put her down for an early nap.
An hour later she woke up and started fussing. I went to her and something didn’t seem right. A few minutes later she was shaking and lost consciousness. I joined Kira in an ambulance where we visited the ER, by which time she was conscious, but lethargic. But not knowing her patterns and history well enough yet, they wanted to bring her in to check her out. It was a febrile seizure, common in young children when a fever sets in very quickly. There’s no permanent damage or diagnosis. We just left with a simple regimen of fever reducers for a few days and the memory of the most expensive dose of Tylenol she’ll ever have.
By the time we got home Kira was much more awake, having slept in my arms as we waited at the ER for her fever to go down. She pointed and giggled with her scrunchy smile as soon as she saw Copper and within a few minutes was running back and forth between bites of applesauce and climbing up and down on a bench. This evening was a strange juxtaposition of Kira’s usual self and our stunned, emotional selves. She wanted to splash in the pool in her clothes and I let her eat a sucker in pajamas before dinner. I was reasonable enough to draw the line at eating the clementine pieces she had previously dropped in the pool water. J
This week has been challenging, as we are also trying to sell our home and had our latest offer fall through. With our ER experience we had to cancel five showings today and tomorrow. Showings disrupt anyone’s schedule, but it feels weightier as we are encouraged to keep Kira’s days predictable.
We are confident and resting in remembering that God will not call us to two opposing things. He would not have called us to be Kira’s parents at the same time as he’s calling us to a new ministry if he didn’t have a plan to meet our needs in the process. And so we wait for the Lord to act, and come to him with abundant gratefulness in sustaining our daughter and sustaining us in both the ordinary days, and the extraordinary ones too.