Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Back from the Brink

What a month this has been. Once again, writing has fallen by the wayside as we just make our way day to day.

The road after Maxim's last surgery has not been easy. It has reallllly humbled me but God is so merciful and kind.

Going into September, I had noticed in myself a lot more fatigue and having a harder time keeping a good attitude. Harder time being patient with the kids and it was coming out in ways that were not helpful to Maxim as he was dealing with his own discomfort and not sleeping well. Aware, as I said in the last post, that God is supplying us but just plain tired and not handling it in the most constructive ways.

Something about Maxim's surgery on his feet, which of course changed the location of the nerves in his feet along with everything else, made him hyper sensitive to all the new sensations. At first, it seems the cast on the left was to tight at the knee (these casts go all the way to the upper thigh, just like his original weekly casts did from February to May) so they had scored (slightly cracked) it down both sides to relieve pressure while we were still in the hospital. Then he began to be absolutely beside himself distracted with how his left foot was feeling. He insisted it did not hurt, but tickled or itched. I tried three different anti-itch ointments to no avail. He literally could not eat or sleep without touching/massaging his feet or having someone else do the same almost constantly. His appetite actually went down to nothing and it was becoming a point of battle which I didn't want it to be and yet he was just disappearing on us. More stressing was the fact that he wasn't loking forward to walking someday and doing whatever it took to get there. He even told Joel he didn't think God was helping him anymore.

That is a really scary place for someone you love to be. You can't make them believe God is with them and cares. They have to latch onto it for themselves, but Maxim had truly lost his resolve.

Finally, it clicked that he was just plain tired of the whole process (wouldn't any of us be after months and months in casts and multiple surgeries with painful recoveries) and most likely experiencing some different physical sensations either due to the new position of everything in his feet, and didn't know how to process it mentally or emotionally. So I called the specialist and explained what was going on.

On the 26th, Daniel came home from work to find me emotionally shot, Maxim in his bedroom crying uncontrollably and knew we had hit a wall, so to speak. Knowing that in my own physical and emotional fatigue I had to find some quiet time to cool down, I had put Maxim in his room to "cry it out". I know not everyone agrees with that idea and I did not do it with any of my other kids, but I knew that it was the best thing for both of us. God was going to have to speak into both our hearts separately before we'd mesh well together again.

So Daniel, knowing that I had had some time to pray and felt willing and eager to receive God's leading, sent me in our room with pen and paper to write in my prayer diary, while instructing our kids not to bother me and doing what he could to restore calm in Maxim.

God really spoke quiet, gentle but pointed, direction into my heart during the time. I wrote down the impressions He gave me about how no adoptive parent can make up for the time our child has lost before joining our family. Sometimes we have to set aside all of our well-intentioned ideas about how to parent that child and be willing to take a different course than expected. I felt that He spoke right to my heart about what Maxim actually needs versus what I thought he needed. He needs love, order, peace, opportunities to explore and observe, patience, reassurance that he does not have to be perfect. God reassured me that Maxim is very smart and he is going to do just fine catching up on academic basics in time. He does not me to invent some rigid regiment to "fix him" or make up for what he never had before. God spoke into my heart and mind that Maxim (and all of our children) belongs to Him, He has a perfect plan for him, and I need to stop behaving like the responsibility is all mine. I am just a simple tool in God's hands and if I get my pride out of the way and rest in that, things will fall into place.

By the time I came out of that prayer time, Daniel was at the dining table with Maxim finishing the homework I had asked him to do earlier and everything in the house was at peace.

I felt so humbled that we can be very burned out and truly not even recognize it. But God is so good to scoop us up and refresh us.

We were able to go in to Grand Rapids on September 29 and she recasted both sides. She also put Maxim on a different medication to calm his nerves overall so the new feelings would not be so overwhelming.

Let me tell you about the recasting first. It was really intense and so intriguing; I think it will help other dealing with reconstructive issues in their children.

After all the castings Maxim has already been through, he knows exactly what to expect when a cast is coming off. Basically the drill goes like this: pants come off but undies stay on, doctor/nurse gives Maxim headphones to protect his ears from the loud noise of the vibrating saw, the machine goes on and the cast is removed. The saw looks really scary, but the nurse always shows Maxim how she can put it on herself and not be cut. We always tell him if it starts to feel hot, that's when he needs to tell us "hot" and they'll take a break to let the "blade" cool. Soon the cast is off and his feet and legs get washed and new casts are put on.

This time was quite different. Maxim completely lost it crying and screaming desperately. I had propped him up a little so he could see, because he normally wants to watch the whole process. However, he was so upset this time, I pulled one side of the headphones away from his ear and asked if he was hurting. He said "No, scary scary scary." I asked if he still wanted to watch. He said yes but he really was so terrified, especially the closer they got to actually opening the casts and taking them off. I realized he was scared of what he was going to see. Of course he knew the doctor had opened his foot and helped him. That's all he understood but now was the time to see what that meant.

When the casts came off, he had to keep his feet very still because the pins are still in until November 9 and his knees were very tender at the slightest movement because joints are always that way after being locked up for long periods.

His feet look BEAUTIFUL! Straight and the incisions were clean and healing well. As soon as the new casts were on (Red and Orange), he was back to himself. He turned to Cyan who was next in line to see Dr. Reinhart (to repair ongoing issues in her right foot due to the CP) and said "Okay Cyan, your turn"

It has taken a couple of weeks since then, but through the prayers of people who have prayed for us, not even knowing fully what was going on, we have greater peace and optimism back again. Maxim is full of such a great attitude and confidence again, excited to try new things, sleeping better, etc.

Through many prayers and through a very refreshing time away from home celebrating Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles) in Missouri with many old and new friends, God has brought such comfort back to us. Thank You Father!!!! And, of course, that appointment to be recasted right before our trip helped tremendously. Maxim's specialist was so quick to see what he needed and accomodate him. These were terrific blessings over the last couple of weeks. Maxim really enjoyed his very first Sukkot as we had hoped.

We are just three weeks now from getting these last casts off (November 9). During the sedation, Maxim will also be fitted for his very first leg braces to support him as he learns to walk. He will be starting physical therapy by December, so this is a really exciting time. Demanding, challenging, but absolutely worth it if we're keeping our eyes on the big picture.

Maxim, as you prepare to stand on your own two feet for the first time very soon, don't forget the words to the song all the little children learned at the Feast this year: Thy Word is a Lamp Unto My Feet
And a Light Unto My Path

The true Redeemer of the years the locusts have eaten is with you. Walk on.

4 comments:

ArtworkByRuth said...

Thank you for the update! Still praying, can't wait to see him standing. Always feel free to call. We love you!

The McGowans said...

Jenna,
You have been on my mind so much lately, and in my prayers. So glad to hear that God has sustained you through these difficult and challenging times. It is so hard to see adversity as the glue and not something that tears families apart.
Blessings to you the Campau six.
Martita

ColoradoColumbine said...

Also praying for you.

Anonymous said...

There is so much love written in your blog, Jenna. Love that overcomes frustration and overwhelmed feelings and exhaustion and ends with just plain genuine love. Love for a precious stubborn scared little boy who was born half way across the world, and has finally found home. With the people who will share life with him, and stand beside him, and love him through the good and bad. Thanks for your transparency, Jenna. We're here for you if you or Maxim needs us.