Our Goodbye

Yesterday, we laid our sweet Gideon to rest.  We, along with our families, got to spend a little time with him before the visitation.  And while it was tough at first, it put us at ease to see him resting so peacefully.  There was no ventilator, no tubes, or any other type of device.  Just Gid dressed in his white outfit.  He looked beautiful and I believe we sent him off well.

My dad, Allen Simpson, opened with scripture (Judges 6:11-16) and a prayer.  Morgan’s uncle Eric Keeton led us in singing “I Need Thee Every Hour.”  Mo and I picked that song because of the incredible truth of its words, but also because it was also sung by my uncle Michael Ball at our wedding.  And how amazing it is to sing the same words in such a different light!  Dad got back up and gave a great message about the incredible impact made by someone so small.  Gideon’s story reached thousands of people in over 52 countries.  How crazy is that?  I can’t even name 52 countries off the top of my head!  Gideon leaves an immense legacy, one that we may never fully understand.

Dad and I decided pretty quickly that we would be the ones to officiate.  We knew it would be awfully tough, but we figured between the two of us, we could push through. Most of the morning was spent praying for strength, and it was strength God provided for both of us to allow us to tell Gid’s story.  Here is my part:

—–

Gideon Elias was with us for 34 hours and 42 minutes.  When we started this journey, we were unsure how long we would get with him.  One of those estimates was less than an hour.  But instead, we were blessed with a day and a half.  We got to find out he loved his head scratched and his hand held.  He would jerk his foot away if we tickled it (just like his momma).  He had three chins, which apparently are my gift to our children.  Our friend Nicole Camp, who is a music therapist at UAB, came in and sang to him for a little while, and all of his vitals seemed to relax a little so maybe he had a little music lover in him too.  His presence was a blessing.

On Friday afternoon, he began to decline unexpectedly.  We called the family in and prepared to say our goodbyes.  We read him the story of Gideon, so that he would know his namesake and the legacy of strength it had.  We read him the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the monstrous faith they had in the face of death.  How they had total faith in God’s power to save them, but even if He had chosen not to, they would still praise Him.  We prayed over him.  Then out of nowhere, he very suddenly pulled out of that and stabilized.  Because our children just can’t help being dramatic about things.  But we were grateful for the extra time.  Around midnight, Morgan and I went to our room to take showers and rest a little, but he soon began what would be his final decline.  We sat next to him, told him how much we loved him and how much we would miss him.  A friend of ours had noticed the infant warmer he laid in looked like a whale’s mouth, so we read him Jonah and the Whale.  After four and a half hours of further decline and no other treatment options, we gathered our family and made the decision to shut off the machines.

What followed was the sweetest time.  We got to hold him for the first time, we kissed his face and breathed his scent.  We whispered our love in his ear and told him that he had fought so hard, but it was ok if he wanted to go on.  We thanked him for the blessing he was to us, one that would forever change our lives for the better.  We sang two verses of “It is Well” over him.  And as he left us, we spoke a blessing over him from the book of Numbers:

May the Lord bless you and protect you;

May the Lord make His face to shine on you and be gracious to you;

May the Lord look with favor on you and give you peace.  (Numbers 6:24-26; CSB).

And with that, our little warrior went home.

Now let me tell you a little bit about victory.

Deuteronomy 20:4 – “For the Lord your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory.”

John 16:33 – “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  You will have suffering in this world.  Be courageous!  I have overcome the world.”

1 Corinthians 15:50-58 – “What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor can corruption inherit incorruption.  Listen, I am telling you a mystery: we will not all fall asleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.  For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we will be changed.  For this corruptible body must be clothed with incorruptibility, and this mortal body must be clothed with immortality.  When this corruptible body is clothed with incorruptibility, and this mortal body is clothed with immortality, then the saying that is written will take place:  Death has been swallowed up in victory.  Where, death, is your victory?  Where, death, is your sting?  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.  But thanks be to God, who gives us victory through our Lord and Jesus Christ!  Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the Lord’s work, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

——-

Early on in our journey with Gideon, the Lord impressed upon me that I would one day deliver this message.  And as He was pushing me that way, He kept giving me a story to tell.  And it is probably a little different than most, but He kept it in front of me for weeks and weeks.  I don’t know if the Lord uses the Lord of the Rings often when He speaks, but He used it to speak to my heart and I hope He uses it to bolster yours.

——-

The summary of the LOTR trilogy is that Sauron and the “forces of darkness” are trying to wipe the human race off the map.  And for the most part, they have succeeded.  In the third book, we find humanity holed up at Minas Tirith.  Imagine a huge mountain, with a magnificent and immense white fortress built into its side.  Humanity’s last hope.  Just in front, there was a massive open field.  And on it were the innumerable forces of Sauron.  They were grotesque, twisted and stretched as far as the eye could see.  They began to lay siege to the City.  They pummeled the walls and slaughtered many who stood to guard it.  The outlook was grim as the walls were breached and the enemy began to enter.

But suddenly, a horn could be heard in the distance.  King Théoden had arrived with his riders from Rohan, the last allies of men.  They had ridden for many days at a breakneck speed to provide help.  Now they stood on the top of a hill overlooking the field where the enemy was gathered.  The King began to ride up and down the ranks of his soldiers, rallying them for what would surely be a suicide charge.  These are his words:

Forth, and fear no darkness!  Arise!  Arise, riders of Théoden!  Spears shall be shaken, swords shall be splintered!  A sword day…a red day…ere the sun rises!  Ride now!  …Ride to ruin and the world’s ending!

The words “forth, and fear no darkness” haven’t left my mind since we found out about what might lie ahead for us.  By themselves, they are strong words, but the reason that this stuck out to me has to do with how Théoden was first introduced to us.  Much earlier in the books, he is described like this:

At the far end of the house…was a dais with three steps; and in the middle of the dais was a great gilded chair.  Upon it sat a man so bent with age that he seemed almost a dwarf; but his white hair was long and thick and fell in great braids from beneath a thin golden circlet set upon his brow…His beard was laid like snow upon his knees…slowly the old man rose to his feet, leaning heavily on a short black staff with a handle of white bone.

Quite the contrast between that and the first image I gave of him.  In the later sighting, he is riding with strength, stirring his men to bravery!  But when we first met him, he was a stooped and weary old man, hardly able to rise from his chair, confined to his throne room.  His appearance then was due to his mind being poisoned by his closest advisor, one loyal to the bad guys.  He had fed him thoughts of hopelessness, turning away all of his most trusted friends, and isolating him in his despair.  And in his sorrow, he had become utterly useless as a king.

But Gandalf (imagine the stereotypical wizard) burst through his doors and cast aside the advisor who had caused all of this.  He spoke to the King of all the victories that they had won against Sauron’s armies that had never reached his ears.  He led the hobbled man out onto the steps of his castle.  Together, they looked out over the fields of his Kingdom.  And as they did, a shaft of sunlight broke through the gray clouds.  And Théoden, upon seeing this, looks out and says, “It is not so dark here.”  He rose up to his full height, dropped his staff, and called for his sword.  He had seen that the darkness was vulnerable, and now rode to strike a fatal blow.

In light of this, the rallying cry he gives his men takes on a different strength.  When Théoden is rallying his men before plunging into the flanks of the enemy, he does not speak as only their leader.  He speaks as one who has been in the grips of darkness, and found that it is not quite as dark as some might make it seem.  Even though he had just returned from its clutches, he had chosen to give his men courage and lead them into battle, for he knew the darkness was vulnerable.  In the books, he has Gandalf.  Gandalf burst into Théoden’s darkness, pulled him out, and showed him that there was hope.  For us, we have the Prince of Peace.  Jesus Christ has pulled us from the depths of sorrow and grief, and taken us to the steps of His kingdom to allow us to look out and see that our darkness is not insurmountable.  He has shown us that our pain that is so deep and visceral right now will only last a short while.  And that one day soon, we will see our little Warrior again.  And just like King Théoden did upon seeing that shaft of sunlight, we now reach for our swords.  To strike a death blow against the devil.  For us.  And for you.

Morgan and I want to be King Théoden for you.  The reality of it is that today is not the last sad day that any of us will experience.  We live in a sinful, fallen world that will continue to be populated by tragedy, sickness, and heartache.  But you can take it from us, as people who have locked eyes with one of the cruelest things the world has to offer, that it isn’t quite so dark out here.  We stand at the top of the hill with our swords drawn, beating our shields and yelling “forth, and fear no darkness!” ready to lead the charge into the armies of the enemy for our LORD IS VICTORIOUS.  The strength of our Lord allows us to look death dead in its eyes and ask “Where, death, is your victory?  Where, death, is your sting?”  We will hurt for a long time.  We long for Gideon more than we ever thought possible.  But God has burst in, grabbed us by the hands, and told us that our heartache is only temporary.  One day, we will get to have our reunion at the pearly gates where there will be no ventilators, no beeping monitors, no cystic kidneys, no pain, and all joy.  Our hearts will long for that day for the rest of our lives, but until then we will spend every second with our swords in hand.  Cutting down the armies of darkness one blow at a time.

The Arrival

Gid is here!  Little earlier than we had planned, but what do kids care about plans right?

Morgan started feeling some pressure on Monday (not helped at all by Hurricane Irma).  It continued on into Tuesday, but we weren’t too overly concerned with it as she has had some pressure in other points of the pregnancy.  But along came Wednesday, and oh what a day Wednesday was.

About 5:15am, Morgan woke me up and told me that she really needed to go see someone about her pain.  It had morphed into something that looked a lot more like contractions, but they were still super mild.  Luckily, my dad had come over the night before to lend a hand with Owen so we immediately hit the road to EAMC, and were admitted to observation.  The contractions sped up until they were 6-7 minutes apart, but fluids and some pain meds helped to spread them further apart and we were discharged around lunch time with instructions to call if anything changed.  Morgan immediately went to bed while I headed to school to do a make-up lab that afternoon.  Owen, Dad, and I all went to church that night, and all was generally well.  Morgan was resting and it looked like we had avoided early labor.

As I went to leave our church for home (~9pm), Morgan called me and again said that she needed to go to the hospital to be seen.  So back we went!  This time, the contractions were ~10 minutes apart, but with increasing severity (with pain meds giving limited relief).  They checked her every so often, but she remained un-dilated.  Pre-term labor can be very simply defined as contractions with dilation.  Without dilation, these were just pre-term contractions but we remained at EAMC to be monitored for changes that could indicate labor.  We were told that we most likely wouldn’t stay overnight, but there were no guarantees.

Somewhere around 2am, the exam revealed that Mo had dilated 1cm.  For most pregnancies, that’s not a huge deal, but for us, that meant that we needed to get to UAB so that we would be ready if Gid decided to make his big appearance.  So off Morgan went in the ambulance with me chasing in our faithful Rav4.

The ambulance pulled in about 4:30am and I made it about 5:30am.  Mo’s contractions were very painful at this point, but all administered pain meds took the edge off at best.  Throughout the morning, she began to progress from 1cm up to 5cm.  She was finally (mercifully) given an epidural around 11am.  We hung on at 5cm until just after 6pm, when the OB went to check the cervix, and instead ran into the top of Gideon’s head!  After that, our room resembled an ant hill that someone had kicked the top off of.  16-ish doctors joined us for the delivery.  Morgan made the entire thing look easy, and Gid was taken to a separate table to begin work on his lungs.  The attending neonatologist stabilized him and he was wheeled down to the NICU, where he currently is, and will be for the foreseeable future.

So what are we looking for now?  He is currently on the oscillating ventilator (gives about 400 breaths/min) that has pulled his oxygen saturation from 75% to the upper 90s (88-95% is desirable).  Oxygen saturation is basically the measure of how well oxygen is being transferred from the air to your blood.  A low O2 sat can indicate several different things, but in Gid’s case it means that he most likely did not completely go through the phase of lung development that allows this to happen.  The air that you and I breathe is roughly 21% oxygen.  A healthy human takes 21% oxygen and produces a 95% oxygen saturation in the blood.  Gideon is currently taking 100% oxygen and producing a 95% oxygen saturation.  So the goal here is to lower the concentration of air being pushed by the ventilator to something closer to 21%.  If Gid is able to convert 21% oxygen (or something somewhat close) into acceptable saturation levels, then he would be able to come off the ventilator long-term.

So that is where we are currently!  If we can reduce the O2 concentration to mimic atmospheric air, then we would be clearing a massive hurdle.  Gid has already lived up to his namesake (“the Mighty Warrior”), and we don’t think he will give up anytime soon.

We are so thankful for all the people who have reached out to us to offer kind words, encouragement, financial help, or anything else.  Gideon is worth every second of the fight.  It is so incredible to be able to see and touch him (he isn’t a fan of having his feet tickled).  There are no guarantees about his future, but this little boy has already grabbed hold of our hearts.  Each moment with him is a precious gift, and we are going to soak up every single second that we have with him.

What Lies Ahead

I never know how to start these things so pretend I wrote something witty here.

Morgan and I have just returned from a couple of days at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital.  What an incredible place!  It’s hard to explain how we were treated during our two days there, but “loved” comes very close.  Everyone from the physicians to the cafeteria staff were friendly, patient, and joyful.

So let’s start with a little bit of a curveball.  In our other posts, we’ve talked about Gideon’s diagnosis (autosomal recessive polycystic kidney disease).   Morgan and I underwent genetic testing while at UAB to confirm that diagnosis, but it turns out we are both negative as carriers!  There is a possibility that he could still have ARPKD, but the odds are roughly 1 in 47,000,000 (Or as the geneticist said “it’s not that”).  So, we aren’t sure of the cause of Gid’s problems, but we will most likely do more invasive genetic sampling to explore that.  This doesn’t change much for Gideon, but it will help us as we plan our family moving forward.

Throughout the two days, we met with many different people all culminating in a large team meeting at 4pm yesterday afternoon.  Now Mo and I didn’t really know what to expect, but let me paint you a picture.  When you go to your regular doctor, if they call in another doctor to look at something, you get a little nervous right?  So imagine the feeling when you walk into a conference room with four doctors, five residents/fellows/students, and two nurses!  It was a little intimidating.  Sadly, I have rubbed off on Morgan so we both began to crack jokes to lighten the mood (our shared defense mechanism).

Morgan’s fetal MRI from earlier that day was displayed on the projection screen.  In turn, the doctors (maternal-fetal, pediatric surgeon, geneticist, and a neonatologist/pulmonologist) walked us through the scan.  His kidneys were massive and very bright (both expected).  His heart and brain looked fine, as did everything else.

The biggest thing we were looking for was lung development.  MRI shows soft tissue (lungs, kidneys, etc) much better than an ultrasound (better for bone and similar dense tissues) so this was the first time we had seen his lungs.  The infusions we talked about in the last post (and the reason we were in Cincinnati) would theoretically help the lungs to develop if they hadn’t been able to on their own.

The scan showed that Gid’s lungs are about 1/3 of the way developed in comparison to where they should be.  The good news is that his odds of being able to breathe on his own once he is born are better than if they had not developed at all.  If a baby is born without any lung development, intubation is useless because the body needs lungs to move oxygen from the air into the bloodstream.  So what little development he has is positive news!  But the downside is that it made the decision whether or not to do the amnioinfusions a little trickier.

Regardless of lung function, Gideon will need dialysis as soon as he is born to survive.  To qualify for dialysis, he must weigh at least five pounds and have stable blood pressure.  Anything below five pounds, and dialysis just isn’t effective.  One of the greatest risks of the amnioinfusions is pre-term (early) labor.  The amnioinfusions COULD provide some minimal lung development, but they also might cause us to have Gideon too early to be put on dialysis.  So in summary, we are betting everything on his lungs being viable since his kidneys are completely nonfunctioning.

Under the care and direction of the great medical team we met with, we have decided not to pursue the amnioinfusions.  The risk of early labor is too great in comparison to the minimal benefits we could see in the development of his lungs.

Moving forward, the odds are absolutely stacked against Gideon.  Each step will have to be miraculous.  If he survives the birth (miracle #1), can breathe on his own (miracle #2), and is a candidate for dialysis (miracle #3), he will be in the NICU for 4-6 months.  We would then be discharged home, where he would need dialysis for ~10 hours a night until he reaches ~20 pounds and is eligible for a kidney transplant.  The doctors informed us that they have never had a baby with no urine output ever make it out of the NICU.  Hard truths to hear, but we are glad to know the realities of what lies ahead.

Morgan and I walked out of that room devastated and hurting.  We had been told so many things that parents don’t want to hear.  And yet, we were unshaken.  And I promise you that wasn’t my own strength, I just wanted to crawl under the table and cry for all the things that could have been.  But moments before we walked into that conference room, Morgan and I were in our “nesting” room (home base for the day).  We began to read the story of Gideon, how the Lord had used him to triumph over the Midianites in the face of impossible odds!  He had used the youngest son of the weakest family in the weakest tribe to conquer a vast nation…with 300 men!  Hebrews 6:19 says “this Hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls.  It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.”  The hope of that unimaginable power keeps us steady, and always looking ahead.  Looking past the pain in this world which feels so permanent, yet is so temporary.  What a blessing!

“I lift my eyes to the hills.  From where does my help come?  My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.  He will not let your foot be moved, he who keeps you will not slumber.” – Psalm 121:1-3

 

Update: Gid the Kid

Yesterday, Morgan and I returned to UAB to meet with the Maternal/Fetal team about what was going on with Gideon.  Specifically, we were going for another extensive ultrasound, a fetal electrocardiogram, and genetic testing on Mo and I to see if we were carriers of autosomal recessive polycystic kidney disease (ARPKD from here on because I’m lazy).

Sadly, we didn’t quite get the news we were hoping for.  Gideon is no longer producing any amniotic fluid, and since we are at 23 weeks gestation that means we have come up a few weeks shy of the lungs being developed.  Short of a miracle (which we absolutely believe can happen), we will most likely carry him to term and he will pass away shortly after birth.

But there is something to be said for the indomitable hope that Christ has spoken into our lives.  Dr. Sutton was amazing and made sure to tell us that even though he has a slim chance to live, there is still a chance.  But honestly, if she had looked me in my eyes and told me with 100% certainty that he would not survive…..we would still have hope.  How can we not??  The more I study medicine, the more I realize just how miraculous everyday life is.  And who better to work a miracle than the One who designed it all in the first place?

But what if He doesn’t?  What if it goes the way that most ARPKD cases go?

When we told our family about the prognosis, I quickly got a response from my cousin Nathan Ball.  Nate is currently serving with Beautiful Feet Ministries in Fort Worth, TX (and is doing an incredible job out there).  He reminded me of three guys who had gone through something similar.  In Daniel 3, these three guys (Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego) were facing execution via King Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace because they refused to bow to his ridiculous golden statue.  A furnace so hot, it killed the men who eventually escorted them to its door.  After they refused to bow once, the king was furious:

¹⁴ Nebuchadnezzar asked them, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, is it true that you don’t serve my gods or worship the gold statue I have set up? ¹⁵ Now if you’re ready, when you hear the sound of the horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp, drum, and every kind of music, fall down and worship the statue I made. But if you don’t worship it, you will immediately be thrown into a furnace of blazing fire—and who is the god who can rescue you from my power?”

¹⁶ Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego replied to the king, “Nebuchadnezzar, we don’t need to give you an answer to this question. ¹⁷ If the God we serve exists, then he can rescue us from the furnace of blazing fire, and he can rescue us from the power of you, the king. ¹⁸ But EVEN IF HE DOES NOT RESCUE US, we want you as king to know that we will not serve your gods or worship the gold statue you set up.”

– Daniel 3:14-18

So what do we do if He doesn’t heal Gideon?  

We let the Devil know that he will get not. one. day.

Not one day will we curse God.  Not one day will we lose faith.  Not one day will we stop praising the Lord.

Will it hurt if we lose Gideon?  Absolutely.  When we were given the news, you could’ve shot me in the chest and it would’ve hurt less.  I dream of teaching him how to play disc golf and I want him to taste the magic of a Krispy Kreme donut.  Never could I have dreamt we could lose him before we ever really knew him.  But we cling to the Lord and trust in what He has laid out for us.  Does that make the pain go away?  No, it doesn’t.  But it does make it temporary.  For He has prepared a place for each of us in which there is no sickness, pain, or death.  If our time with Gid is short, we will give him all the love we can in the time we are given.  “If He does not rescue us,” our hearts will be heavy, but our faith will be unshaken.

So I ask, if you would, to pray.  Pray for peace for us, health for Gid, and strength for Morgan and I to not miss the opportunities the Lord sets in front of us.  Mo and I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the love we have received through all of this.  The Lord has blessed us so tremendously with friends from all over who are so willing to serve and encourage us!

¹ I love you, Lord, my strength.
² The Lord is my rock,
my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock where I seek refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold.

– Psalm 18:2

From Application to Acceptance

If you haven’t yet, read The Journey to Application to get caught up on my family’s journey from the beginning to the decision to apply to medical school.  If you have already done that, then let’s jump right in!

So it picks up right at the beginning of 2015.  We had decided to apply, so I registered for Physics II and Chemistry II (and their labs) barely a week before they started.  Luckily, both classes were available at times that complimented my work schedules at both the Baptist Student Union and the church.  It was quite the adjustment after my semester off, especially considering I was in two large classes consisting of mostly freshmen.  However, class for me was different this time.  I had some incredible motivation to be diligent with my work (wife and upcoming baby), as well as a deeper appreciation for my professors (after student teaching).  Armed with that, I did my best to tackle the semester.  Morgan and I were also trying to adjust to the idea of adding a little tiny human to our lives at the end of May.  Things were crazy!

I have mentioned before how the pre-requisite classes alone were going to cost us around $10,000.  We were able to digest them in ~$2,000 increments, but that still began to put a strain on our finances.  When it was just the two of us, all it took was a tighter budget and we could pay it.  Post-baby, it was much harder.  But the Lord is faithful.  Turns out, I had forgotten a section of my BSU salary package included around $1600 to go towards education.  And in the fall, Bro. Dan Robertson (the BSU council chairman) was speaking with a group of community members when someone asked if Morgan and I were getting any tuition assistance.  Long story short, I ended up recieving a scholarship through the Hollis Foundation in Columbus, MS.  It always seemed that just when we reached the end of our financial rope, He provided for us.  We had to have a new key made for the car (~$125).  $125 that we didn’t have.  The next day I was greeting people at church and a member walked up to me and said “You’re doing a great job” and handed me $100.  Talk about overwhelmed.  I had to go to the restroom to collect myself after that.

Short bio about me: I tend to rely on myself to do everything.  Don’t have enough money in the account?  I’ll pick up some extra band gigs or photography shoots.  Heck, I’ll come rake the leaves in your yard.  And even after all the times the Lord has provided for my family, I STILL try to “man up” and do it myself.  It makes absolutely zero sense.

Matthew 21:22 says “And whatever you ask for in prayer, you will receive, if you ask in faith.”  Seeing this, it’s easy to think “well I will just ask for all of these classes to be paid for.  That way I can relax.”  But then we look at “the Lord’s Prayer” in Matthew 6.  This is Jesus telling us how to pray, and He says, “Give us this day our daily bread.”  The lesson was simple: trusting the Lord to provide for us each and every day causes us to be dependent on Him each and every day.  

So that was just one of the lessons learned through all of this.

During March, I briefly shadowed Dr. Ozborn and Dr. Huffman in Eupora, MS.  In the beginning of May, BSU came to a close (as well as my two classes at State) and Morgan and I temporarily moved to Amory to await our little bundle of joy.  While there, I spent two weeks in the Amory Pediatric Clinic with Dr. Al-Godi and Dr. Tavarez.  These two men and their nurses (Chelsea and Andrea) taught me so many things that it really deserves its own post (and it might get it, who knows?).  All of them were committed to immersing me in the clinical experience, and I truly felt like part of their team.

But one of the coolest parts of this time actually came on the patient side of things.  I was able to go with Morgan to most of her appointments with Dr. Duke Wood.  Dr. Wood actually used to live next door to us when I was younger, so we were somewhat familiar with each other.  He is what’s called a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine, or DO.  In medicine, there are two basic types of doctors, MD and DO.  I’m not going to delve into the differences between them at the moment (I hope to go more in depth at a later time), but at its core there are some basic training differences between the two.  One of the first decisions to be made when applying to medical school is which type you would like to pursue, due to their schools being separate from one another.  I wasn’t terribly informed about DO schools, so he was a fantastic resource for that.  And beyond that, he was an excellent physician all the way through the pregnancy!

I spent May shadowing during the day and studying MCAT books at night.  Morgan spent May on the treadmill or out on the road walking.  And Owen spent May making it very clear that he was happy right where he was.  The Wednesday before our due date, we went in to see Dr. Wood.  He told us we could either induce that day, or wait until the following Monday.  We sat in the McDonald’s parking lot, discussed our options, prayed over them, and decided to induce that day.  Fast forward 24 hours and Owen was still refusing to make an appearance, so we opted for a C-Section.

Once inside the OR, the weight of the situation really began to set in.  To cover my nervousness, I immediately began joking with anyone who would listen (strange defense mechanism, I know).  But my nervousness was for nothing as everything went perfectly.  We quickly found out that the umbilical cord had wrapped itself around Owen’s neck and abdomen, hindering his ability to descend naturally.  Dr. Wood and his team handled it perfectly (even in the face of numerous defense jokes from me), and soon we found ourselves in our new reality as a family of three.

We spent a few days in the hospital as Owen’s jaundice levels fluctuated.  But soon, it was back to the real world.  We took Owen home and had a few days to figure out what in the world we were doing.  But Thursday rolled around all too quickly.  That Thursday, I began to try to tame the beast.

Organic Chemistry.

On the first day of class, I walked to the front of class after the session was over to talk to my professor about our situation.  I told her I was a new parent and it was very possible that I would miss a class or two because I freaked out about something that really wasn’t that big of a deal.  Her response?

“You must drop the class.”

…what?  “I’ll be fine, I promise.  I just wanted to let you know.”

“No there is no way that you can pass this class as well as take care of your family.  It can’t be done.  Your wife will either hate you in the end of it, or you will fail.”

Every pre-medical student hears of the horrors of Organic Chemistry.  And this exchange did nothing to alleviate my fears.  But in the back of my head, a still small voice spoke.

“I’ve brought you this far.   Have a little faith!”

And it should be that easy!  Why oh why do I insist on relying on myself?  Throughout the summer term, He and I spent a lot of time together in prayer and I came out with an A and a B (in I and II respectively).  Organic Chemistry just made sense to me, and I dare not say that is of my own volition.  And what do you know?  My wife still liked me.

Following the conclusion of the summer term, the three of us went on vacation with my family for a few days.  But there is no rest for the weary!  I had the MCAT the next week, so I spent my days on the beach cozied up next to flash cards (thanks Mrs. Deborah!) and my nights answering practice questions on my computer.  I would wake up some mornings and Morgan would tell me stories of how I muttered science facts in my sleep.

And after months of build-up, the MCAT came and went.  I was shooting for a 500 on the new scale, but felt like I hadn’t even come close to meeting my goal.  Most people study 6-8 hours a day for about 3 months leading up to the test.  With my responsibilities to my family, class, and jobs, I could manage 2-3 hours at most.  And if anyone needed to study extra, it was me.  Biology, my weakest subject due to lacking Bio II and Biochemistry, was what most of the questions had been about.  As the score reporting date approached, Morgan and I prepared for bad news.

But the bad news never came.  I had squeezed out a 504.  Biology, as expected, had been my weakest section.  But it had been countered with a high score in Verbal Reasoning.  Our house is normally a pretty quiet house, but there was much hooting and hollering heard in the Windermere complex that day.

With MCAT score in hand, I began to send out applications.  After talking with Dr. Wood about the osteopathic route, we sent applications to five osteopathic schools (LECOM-Bradenton, VCOM-Auburn, LMUCOM, ACOM, and William Carey).  I prepared the application for allopathic schools, but I could never hit send.  My stats (504 MCAT and 3.6 cGPA) were a little low for allopathic schools but it was still doable.  However, after spending time with Dr. Wood and seeing how he and his staff treated both me and my wife throughout the pregnancy, I decided to apply only to osteopathic schools.

Fast forward to the end of the semester (I promise I’m almost done), and I get invited to interview at William Carey University and VCOM-Auburn on consecutive days in January.  I received dress pants, ties, and a suit for Christmas so it is safe to say this was on everyone’s mind throughout the holiday season.

Morgan and I had our hearts set on William Carey.  We had family nearby, were somewhat familiar with the area, and also were familiar with the university itself.  I went in and had a great interview with three other applicants.  Morgan picked me up at the end of the day and we did a little dance and crossed our fingers that our plan would come to fruition.

We immediately took off towards Auburn (about a 4 hour drive from Hattiesburg) arriving at our hotel just in time to catch the College Football National Championship.  Nothing quite like watching the people of Auburn react to Alabama winning yet another national championship.  Wings were also half price at the hotel restaurant so we were feeling pretty good that night.

The next day, we woke up early and began the drive into Auburn (our hotel was a little ways out).  We stopped to get gas and the nozzle malfunctioned and drenched my shoes in gasoline.  Excellent start to the day!  I began to wonder if this was a sign of things to come.

But the farther we drove into town, the more that Morgan and I began to realize that this was where we needed to be (pending acceptance of course).  It is hard to explain, but the needle had already begun to swing when we pulled up to VCOM’s building.

I won’t explain every single thing that happened during the interview (since this is already a small book), but when Morgan picked me up at the end of the day, we both knew that this was it.  We honestly just had to laugh because we had once again made our own plans only to be shown that they were misguided.  One of these days, I may actually learn my lesson.

We made the long trip home and awaited the call.  We had been told it could be that week or a few weeks, there’s no certainty.

Well we didn’t wait long.  The next day we got acceptance calls from both schools!  The Auburn group laughed at me because I couldn’t even accurately communicate how overjoyed I was!  It felt like we had crossed the finish line at a marathon that we had been sprinting.  And all that I could think of was how God was probably sitting there waiting to say “I told you so!”

So here we are, the beginning of March.  We’ve already made one trip to look for housing and will need another one soon.  To think that a year and a half ago this wasn’t even on our radar is just astonishing.  Then, I had an education degree with the plans to go to seminary.  Now, we are slowly packing our house up in anticipation for the move to Auburn.  Then, Morgan was pregnant.  Now, we have a nine-month old that loves to unspool the toilet paper and wave at inanimate objects.  Crazy.

As Dwight Schrute once said, “Nothing is on my horizon…except everything.  Everything is on my horizon.”  That truly sums up how life feels for our family currently.  The future is open to so many different routes and outcomes that it can be downright terrifying at times.  However, Proverbs 19:21 comes to mind.  “Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand.”  In our case, this is truly what happened.  There is no telling where we would’ve ended up, but I can assure you that even though it can be difficult to trust at times, it is always worth it.