Prayer Warriors Needed for Ashlyn’s Foot Surgery

March 16, 2018March 16, 2018 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

Ashlyn is our special 14 year old. She was a happy and healthy baby. We didn’t know until she was 6 weeks old that she had a chromosomal abnormality. We couldn’t get into a pediatric geneticist until she was 3 months old. It was then that we learned that a piece of her 6^th chromosome was missing. This was very rare with less than 25 cases in the world similar to hers and none on record just like her. I felt amazed that God would trust me with such a special little girl. This also meant that no one knew what the outcomes would be for her.

“Wait and see,” is what they said. Chris and I were sure that she would be almost normal.

We were wrong.

With each passing month, each passing year it became more and more clear how wrong we were. I asked God for wisdom. I read What to do with Your Brain Injured Child by Glenn Doman and it became my guide.

I let Ashlyn lay on her belly all the time. It seemed like forever until she lifted her head, but she did it! I made a crawling track for her and eventually she started to scoot! That is, after many excruciating months in a brace to fix a right dislocated hip. Still, that right side didn’t seem quite right. She would drag that leg behind her while using the left leg to move forward across the floor.

It took many years and a trip to the Family Hope Center to get Ashlyn to start the cross-pattern crawling. Learning to climb up the stairs is what did it for her. I was overjoyed! I was ecstatic! I didn’t care how long she crawled. I knew she would get up and walk eventually.

Again, I was wrong.

She didn’t get up and bear weight on her feet. Slowly, ever so slowly, a mysterious and invisible force inside of her body began to pull her feet inward, the right more than the left. The legs began to become internally rotated on the hip sockets, the right more that the left. I didn’t notice and neither did all the doctors and specialists that she went to.

Finally we recognized a progressive club foot deformity. We employed many different types of therapies and braces which allowed her to stand independently for the first time when she was almost 9 years old and take 11 steps by herself by age 10.

We built her a walking track and she worked up to over a hundred trips a day! She could walk independently around the house.

However, that invisible force kept on pulling, robbing her of all the progress she had made. Now the only option left is surgery. I hate the thought of surgery. The pain. The 8-12 weeks of recovery and non-weight being. The bulky and difficult casts. The unknown outcome. The scar tissue and possible pain and arthritis later in life. I asked God for wisdom and I figured that we had to give Ashlyn the chance to walk.

No surgery would mean no walking.

I decided to get two opinions on Ashlyn’s case. The first with Dr. Sorenson at Hershey Bone and Joint Institute and the second with Dr. Herzenberg at the Rubin Institute for Advanced Orthopedics in Maryland. We saw Dr. Sorensen first. I like him so much! He recommended a Posterior Medial Release for the left foot and a Talectomy for the right foot (removing of the talus bone.) He had gotten a medial release when he was 12 years old and it has been great for him. He thought that Ashlyn would be able to walk just fine! I was so encouraged and left his office with hope.

I don’t ever remember leaving a doctor’s office with so much hope!

I researched the two doctors online and my heart sank. Dr. Herzenber had around 30 years more experience that Dr. Sorenson. I didn’t want to travel all the way to Maryland to see him, but I felt like I would be a horrible mother if I didn’t.

Thankfully Chris came with me on the day of the appointment. The drive was long. The wait in the office was even longer – 2 ½ hours in the room! Dr. Herzenberg sure knew his stuff! He said he had done many talecomies over the years but came to realize that a triple arthrodesis produced better results. A telectomy didn’t leave a joint at all, just scar tissue between two bones that didn’t fit together. This was not good for a major weight bearing part of the body. A triple arthrodesis would fuse three smaller joints but reform the talus bone into a working joint.

I left that visit feeling like this surgery would be totally impossible!

I had to give Ashlyn the best surgeon and the best option, but I could never drive back and forth to Baltimore time and time again for pre and post-op visits. I could never stay away from my family for the days that she would be in the hospital.

I decided to talk all of this over with Dr. Sorenson. I didn’t know how he would react. Some doctors bristle when you question their authority and opinion. I prayed and prayed. When I told him that I had taken Ashlyn to see Dr. Herzenberg for a second opinion he said, “Oh really! He is wonderful. I actually went to see him for a second opinion when I needed knee surgery.”

I showed him the report of Ashlyn’s appointment and Dr. Herzenberg’s recommendations. He sat down and read the entire report, WORD FOR WORD! I never expected that! It was clear that he admired this other doctor greatly.

When he had finished, he said, “I see his point with the triple arthrodesis.” He examined Ashlyn’s feet again and declared, “Yes, I think that would really work! Yes, I agree. I could do the surgery here for you or you could go see Dr. Herzenberg. I wouldn’t be offended at all.”

I told him that I would much rather do the procedure here in Hershey with him as the doctor. We talked about all the details; four weeks of casting prior to surgery to stretch the muscles as much as possible, three days in the hospital, 4-6 weeks in castes, 4-6 weeks in special boots.

“I am so glad you went for a second opinion,” he said at the end of the appointment.

I was overjoyed! I liked this doctor and the office much more than the Baltimore option, but I never dreamed that it would work out so well! I thanked God over and over for this humble and wonderful Dr. Sorenson. I prayed that God would make him brilliant beyond his own abilities!

As I thought about writing this article in hopes of raising a prayer army for Ashlyn, I realized something. I wasn’t really expecting this surgery to work, to actually give Ashlyn the ability to walk. I was doing it because to not do it would seem like neglect. But my expectations were of pain and suffering for Ashlyn, myself, and the entire family; not of a breakthrough. There were two reasons for my dismal outlook.

There were other issues that made walking difficult, her hips and the 50% curvature of her spine that would not be addressed in this surgery.
Everytime we had followed instructions that were supposed to help Ashlyn’s feet, it failed to do so. Doctors, therapist, and The Family Hope Center had prescribed 8 different therapies or equipement to use and here Ashlyn is…a 14 year old who can’t walk.

God has been coaxing me away from my expectations rooted in the past. He is bringing me into faith.

Faith that the future could hold more healing and more promise than I can see right now.

I am also asking Him for miraculous healing since I know that He is the great Physician and that He would do a perfect job with no pain or scar tissue! I am taking Ashlyn to a healing room this Saturday and hope to take her To Randy Clark’s healing service on Good Friday.

Ashlyn goes for her first casting on March 21^st. Her second casting is April 4^th. Her surgery will be on April 19^th at Hershey Med Center. Could you please pray for God’s amazing healing to be displayed and for peace and comfort for Ashlyn and the rest of the family as well! I am not sure how I am going to deal with showers and potty-time with Ashlyn in two casts, unable to stand or walk at all. Pray for God’s wisdom and grace! Thank you for standing with us and expecting wonderful things!

God is ALWAYS better than we think He is

May 23, 2016May 23, 2016 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

“There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.”

This is a famous quote from the Hiding Place, a true story written by Corrie Ten Boom. She and her sister Betsy had defied the Nazis by hiding Jews in their home. When their house was raided, the Jews were never discovered in the expertly designed hiding place, but Corrie and Betsy were taken into custody and eventually put into a concentration camp. Corrie experienced the horrors of a hell on earth. She witnessed the death of many, including her beloved sister. Yet she learned that in the darkest pit, God was there…and He was good…so incredibly good.

She came out of that experience more in love with Jesus, more devoted to following Him. She spent the rest of her life encouraging other people to love Jesus. That is a testimony that no one can deny. No imaginary God, no fairy tale God, no boring or religious God could work a miracle like that; placing a life into the crucible of suffering and making it a joyous offering.

I have often pondered Corrie’s life and wondered what I would have done in her place. It is unlikely that any of us will have to make the choices she had to make. Yet each one of us will have our own personal hell on earth that we will have to navigate through.

On Thursday night, I heard the stories of five women from my church; each I knew well; each had faced their own crucible.

Kristi is a wonderful deejay on the local Christian radio station. She lives in my neighborhood and I sometimes see her pass my house, taking a walk with her little boy in a stroller. She told how just months after their marriage, her husband was diagnosed with cancer. Years later cancer was found in her body as well. In addition, the doctors told them it would be impossible for them to have children. Her story wasn’t about the seven long years of treatment and tests, sorrow and disappointments. Her story was about the goodness of God, His healing power, and their miracle baby!

Bobbie is the mother of one of my first youth leaders, and one of the hardest working, sweetest ladies you will ever meet. She faced breast cancer and multiple cancer scares after that. Does she live in fear? No! Her life is full of joy because of her amazing God!

Tiffany was just a junior higher when I met her. I was in senior high and would sing on stage with the youth worship band. She wrote me a sweet little note at one of the youth retreats that said something like this, “I see you on stage with such grace and confidence, and I know that God does that.” Well, my singing voice is not what it used to be, and I have faded into the background. Now I watch Tiffany on stage worshipping with a clear and powerful voice, singing songs that she has written and recorded, and I am looking up to her in admiration!

Tiffany told the story of suffering a blood clot in her lungs, dying twice, and surviving a surgery that would have killed 499,999 people out of 500,000. Her story wasn’t about the pain and suffering she had to enduring during the recovery process. She didn’t complain about the interruption in their lives with two little girls and a newborn baby boy. She told of how God’s goodness was there every step of the way. She said, “You can NEVER exaggerate the goodness of God. He is ALWAYS better that we think he is!”

Sharon was a leader in youth group when I was in high school. A few years later, I actually saw myself in her wedding album. She and her husband were honeymooning in Boston. I just happened to be there on a missions trip with YWAM, and we randomly ran into each other on the street and snapped a picture! I admired both her and her husband, and when I heard the news that he had left her for another woman while she was pregnant with their second child, I was heartbroken for them. She was devastated and was a single parent for almost 15 years. Yet her story is not one of loss and betrayal. It is a story of learning to love herself, learning to forgive, and learning how much God loved her. Now she sees restoration in all the broken relationships and just married a man who is better than the very best she had ever imagined for herself. God gave her more that she had asked for!

Sue is a powerful woman of God at our church. I first met her when I volunteered to help out with vacation Bible school when I was in high school. I was assigned to help in her room which was the dancing room. Each day, four different groups of children would rotate through our room. Sue led them with a microphone (which she really didn’t need) and tireless energy. I had never had so much fun at vacation Bible school before!

Sue told of her battle with cancer. She was in so much pain that she wished for death. She survived the surgery that took out her entire stomach, part of her esophagus, part of her intestines, and her gallbladder. Her doctors were so surprised, they hadn’t developed a follow-up plan. Cancer free six years later, she doesn’t moan about how unlucky she was. She sings and shouts and passionately tells of her beloved Jesus! She looks like she would explode if she didn’t proclaim her love.

How can this be? Shouldn’t all these women be bitter and cynical, wondering why a loving God would lead them through the valley of the shadow of death? All of these women have a real relationship with a real God who never left them for a moment. In fact He was always right there with them, carrying them, listening to them, speaking to them, and healing them. He was sending answers, giving provision, working miracles and loving on them until they were filled to overflowing with that love.

This is a God that we just cannot deny. I pray that you and I will be encouraged to trust more in His great love for us and have the courage to say in our own trials…

“There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.”

The Heartbreak and Joy of a C-section

June 1, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

As a young girl, I read that one out of every ten babies in the United States was born by C-section. I remember thinking, “If I have ten children, I will probably have a C-section in my lifetime.” But who really has ten children anyway? So I dismissed it as a very unlikely possibility. Despite the fact that cesareans have become more and more common (one out of every three births), I estimated that my chances were dropping. I was healthy and strong, educated in natural childbirth. I had beautiful, easy deliveries…eight of them! Although theoretically, I knew that anything can happen in this life, and I was not exempt from the risks of childbearing, I never thought it would happen to me.

I was so excited to be pregnant with my ninth child. I became even more excited when I found out that it was a girl! I had longed for a girl for so long, that I had almost given up. I felt the overwhelming joy of a dream come true. Yet along with it came a suffocating fear.

I had never before worried about the life of any my unborn babies. I just loved them, prepared a room for them, and anticipated a future for them. Yet this time I began to wonder if my preparations were in vain. What if I never got to hold my baby girl in my arms? What if I never got to dress her in all the pretty clothes? What if the sweetness and the tenderness of who she was, left my life forever?

I didn’t speak of these thoughts. If I uttered them out loud, they might become more real. Finally one night I tried to explain it to my husband, and I began to cry. Why was I crying? The baby was healthy and moving around in my belly. This had been my easiest pregnancy yet. There was no reason to worry.

“I think you have fear with this baby because she is so connected to the promises of God,” Chris said. At that instant I realized that it was true. We had already named her Annalise Promise which means “Oath of God” and “Graced with God’s Bounty.” Her name was a sign to us that we would be entering a season of promises fulfilled, promises for abundance. We had always prayed for that season. We had been looking for it ever since we had gotten married, straining our eyes across the horizon for any sign that the prosperity might be on its way. We felt deep in our bones that God meant for us to have more than enough of everything we needed, everything our children needed. Yet we hadn’t been able to live in that prosperity, cycling between the highs of great opportunities and the lows of dashed dreams.

Now we were having a girl whose very name meant the Boundless Generosity of God, and I was terrified that I would never be able to keep her or God’s Goodness, that both would slip through my fingers no matter how hard I tried to grasp them.

Of course I realized that God does not work that way. This fear was not from Him, yet He would take it from me, I was sure. I laid my fear at His feet and He gave me hope and joy and promises! He had me read Zephanaiah 3:14-20 over and over again. I could almost hear Him rejoicing over me with happy songs. I could feel Him hold me in his strong arms. I could sit back and watch him fight for me and gain the victory! I did not have to fear disaster! He was holding my little girl in His hands and she was safe!

My other babies were always head down in my womb, settling into a familiar position that I knew so well. But this little girl would not do that no matter how much we talked to her, coaxed her, and prayed for her. She would flip and turn and end up in all sorts of positions.

I was becoming quite nervous about her position as I headed into week 37. Our whole family had been hoping for an Easter baby which was only days away, yet Annalise was still not head down. I would lay in bed at night, tired yet unable to sleep. My belly was so big, I found it hard to breath. I could feel her do flips inside of me.

“I think we need to get another ultrasound to check on your placenta. If it is too low, that may be why the baby is not able to descend.” Mary, my midwife said as I was getting close to 38 weeks.

I had no intention of getting another ultrasound, but the night before Chris had expressed concern about the same issue. I felt peaceful that Annalise was safe and sound in God’s hands, but for Chris’ peace of mind, I agreed to go in and get checked. I prayed that if all was well, I would go into labor before the ultrasound. A peaceful homebirth was my heart’s desire. I would rehearse the wonder and beauty of it in my mind to cheer my weary bones. Yet I also prayed, “Don’t let me give birth at home if you want me in the hospital.”

Labor did not come and I found myself lying on a table in a darkened room. It only took the ultrasound tech a few minutes to see that placenta was covering the cervix.

“I am so sorry!” Mary said, “I know how much you wanted a home birth, but we just can’t deliver you at home. If the placenta is born first, your baby could die. You will need to choose a hospital and I suggest you go in tomorrow. It would be better to get a C-section as soon as possible so you don’t go into labor.”

I was in shock. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Yet, I knew that it was what God wanted. Otherwise He could have easily moved that placenta and brought labor on the week before. When I returned home from the ultrasound, all I could manage to do was cry. Most of my other eight children were around the house playing or doing homework after school. My oldest daughter hugged me and said, “It will be ok, Mama.”

I tried to believe her. I cried and grieved the loss of my perfect homebirth. I had wanted to be close to my other children. I had wanted a fast and easy recovery that would allow me to continue taking care of the needs of the home and homeschooling. I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that I had offered my body to God as a living sacrifice, to carry this child of promise, and He was going allow doctors to cut into me tomorrow.

The next day Chris and I began the work of getting ready to go to the hospital. As soon as Chris’ mom had heard about the situation, she had started driving to Pennsylvania from Florida. She would be able to get to our house by the evening to take care of the other children. How that eased my mind!

I sent a prayer request to all the ladies who had been to my baby shower a few weeks earlier. I also called my mom to explain the situation. She had been hoping to be at the birth, but I told her that I had to get surgery and she probably wouldn’t be able to see the baby until hours afterward. Mom happened to be at the ladies meeting at church. She stopped the meeting right then and there and asked for prayer for me!

A lovely thing began to happen. As I was trying to get ready, rushing around the house, up the stairs and down the stairs again, I started to receive emails and texts and calls from loving friends. They were praying for me and speaking encouraging words and offering help! One dear friend even prayed out loud for Annalise while I turned on the speaker phone so Annalise listen.

I was feeling an overwhelming sadness about having to endure a C-section, but I didn’t want Annalise to feel sad. I didn’t want her to feel like she was being torn from her safe haven too early or experience anguish on the day of her birth. The prayer I heard coming from the other end of my phone brought peace to my body and soul.

“Annalise will be so peaceful. It will be a sign to you.” I heard my friend pray.

Chris and I arrived at the hospital in the early afternoon. Mary was already there. It took hours for the staff to assess me and determine that the placenta was not actually covering the cervix but was dangerously close, only .9 cm away. Studies had shown that 90% of women with a marginal placenta like mine bled during labor and required an emergency C-section to save the life of the baby. Thankfully, I had not yet gone into labor and we could have a planned C-section.

It took several more hours to prep me for the C-section. During this time I felt oddly peaceful. God was in control and it was going to be ok. Finally at 8pm I was taken into the operating room where the anesthesiologist started the spinal.

“No pain. You will feel no pain, only pressure. No pain,” he kept saying over and over again.

I must admit that I didn’t believe him. How could I feel no pain at all during such a major surgery? Yet almost immediately, I started to lose feeling in my lower body. I started feeling woozy. My body felt so heavy. I was so tired, that I could hardly respond to the questions the nurses would ask from time to time. Before I knew it, Chris was next to me.

I heard the voice of a doctor instruct the intern on how to begin. I had never seen the doctor’s face. The intern had introduced himself and explained the entire procedure beforehand. He said he had done at least 50 to 60 C-sections in the past. He was friendly and I liked him a lot. The doctor, however, was gruff and rude to this nice intern, acting like the intern had never done a C-section before.

“NO, not like that! Not like that! Here, let me do it!” I heard from the other side of the blue curtain. I really experienced no pain at all! It was amazing to me. It almost felt like this procedure was happening to someone else. Even the abrasive voice of the doctor and the extreme pressure on my pelvic bone couldn’t bring me out of my medicated haze. But more than that, I felt the peace that surpasses understanding. I knew that God had every detail of this birth planned out for the best.

“She is almost here.” I heard Chris say with joy and excitement. I just couldn’t muster up excitement myself. I felt pushing and then a weight was lifted. I was lighter!

“She is here!” Chris said. Quickly the little bundle was taken to a table just a few yards behind me. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her. She was crying for all she was worth! A good sound. I wanted to call out to her. I wanted her to know that I was close by, that I was so excited that she was here, but I didn’t have the energy. Someone brought her to me and placed her on my chest. She was little and perfect. I was too numb to hold her, so she was whisked away again, this time out of the operating room. Chris went with her and suddenly I was alone…so alone.

I was lying on the operation table in the middle of the large room. I was vaguely aware of nurses and doctors working to stitch me up. They were talking among themselves, but not acknowledging me. I knew that the bright lights were highlighting my nakedness and my gaping wound.

“My baby is here! She has been born!” I thought to myself. “Yet how could this really be considered her birth? I didn’t give birth. Is today really her birthday? I didn’t push her out. The doctors pulled her out. It didn’t feel like a birth.”

As these thoughts floated around in my clouded mind, sadness descended. Instead of feeling the overwhelming relief and bliss that enveloped me after the birth of my other eight children, I felt a stark and cold loneliness. I wouldn’t allow the weeping to begin. I knew it would overwhelm my consciousness. I didn’t want to meet Annalise in the recovery room with tears.

Soon I was being wheeled to where my baby was. She was placed into my arms and I got my first really good look at her. Her face was tiny and beautiful, and she was looking up at me with open eyes. So serene. So peaceful.

She was a sign to me that everything was going to be ok. I would heal. The sadness would fade. I had suffered loss, but it hadn’t been the disaster I had most feared. My little girl was safe. Safe too were all of God’s promises. Our finances were still in an unstable place. But I was certain that we would see His goodness. I was sure that Annalise would live a life marked by God’s generosity.