Maybe not...

I assume that most of the people that have stumbled across my blog have already heard our not-so-big news via facebook or on Lauren's carepage.

I can't help but think of Paul Harvey as I share "the rest of the story."

Honestly, this week has been awfully tough on me. It's been a little thing here, some other thing here, and just the never-endedness of it at times. I stayed up late last night chatting with Tim so that we could straighten out all the everythings that are going on at home. As luck would have it, Lauren woke up super-early. Our morning schedule kind of fell apart, and we were just hanging out in the playroom looking for the elusive "something else" to keep us busy. One of the child-life specialists even asked me how I was doing because I looked so out of sorts this morning. (She later told me that she thought that was the first time I looked upset and actually admitted it to her.)

Around 10:30, the transplant coordinator stopped by to tell me that something was in the works. Of course, we've been warned time and time again that there may be false-starts. I called Tim, but I was cautiously guarded for some time. They said they'd know more in about an hour.

Several hours passed without much more news. Meanwhile, Lauren's feeds were held and IV fluids started so that she'd be ready for surgery.

The longer I waited, the more excited I got. I knew that no news meant that things were still going well and nothing had stuck out as a reason to turn-down the heart.

By late afternoon, a good five hours after I first heard about the possibility, Lauren's primary cardiologist was looking quite excited. I actually can't ever remember him looking excited or pleased -- ever. He walked by once and just nodded his head. I kept hoping and praying.

By four o'clock, I was quite optimistic. Dr. H looked at me and said, "It's a go." At about the same time, he turned to the cardiology fellow and told him to activate the orders. I joked that it sounded like a nuclear attack.

Unfortunately, less than an hour later, the coordinator came back to tell me that they had decided against the heart after all. I was a bit too shocked to get all the details. Apparently, they were waiting on the last lab tests to come back, the ones for the off-the-wall stuff that never comes up positive during these screens. As soon as she heard what the result was, she knew it was a no-go. Both of the transplant surgeons agreed. I called Tim and stopped him just minutes before he was going to board a train to come up here.

It's been an emotional rollercoaster to say the least. I really don't know how I'm feeling. When I heard that it wasn't going to happen today, the transplant nurse coordinator asked how I was doing. I, of course, answered that I was okay, it'll be okay. I'll never forget that she just looked at me and said, "Liar." She was right.

As I've been typing, I've been playing a song over and over on the computer. I started this blog remembering the song "You Never Let Go." Lauren and I listen to that song often.

Tonight, I'm listening to John Waller's "While I'm Waiting" from the movie Fireproof.

I'm waiting! I'm waiting on You, LORD!
And, I am hopeful. I'm waiting on You, LORD!
Though it is painful. But patiently, I will wait.
I will move ahead, bold and confident,
taking every step in obedience, while I'm waiting.
I will serve You, while I'm waiting!
I will worship, while I'm waiting!

I really don't know what all I'm feeling tonight -- I'm tired, I'm frustrated, I long to be like the precious three-year-old who was for the most part oblivious to all the excitement and spent the day making glitter messes in the playroom, I wish I were home and not giving Brennan extra hugs over the phone when he couldn't fall asleep, I'm still hopeful, I'm perhaps more hopeful than I was a week ago when this all seemed forever away, I'm wishing that my magic 8-ball would give clearer answers, I'm definitely not giving up hope...

Most of all, I'm confident that God has a plan and that he is in control. A good friend reminds me that God is Good all the time, and all the time God is Good -- GIGATTAATTGIG.

Tomorrow, I'll be moving ahead... while I'm waiting. I pray that I'll be bold and confident. At the very least, I pray that I'll be able to keep moving along fast enough to keep up with a certain three-year-old on a tricycle.