In an earlier post, I mentioned that I felt ready for whatever God had planned for David. "My job is to rest in Him and believe in His plan and purposes, regardless of the outcome." Truthfully when I wrote that, the "outcome" I referred to was really black or white - David would either survive beautifully or he would die. I never planned on gray.
We've been in a state of gray for over three months now. Will he or won't he?
The conversation is moving toward going home with milrinone support (milrinone is an IV medication used to help people in heart failure). This is again a gray area. We aren't going home with big celebrations and feelings of victory for reaching a huge milestone. We aren't going home fully defeated either. We're going home with more uncertainty than we had when we left.
I suppose I shouldn't be so bold to say "we're going home." We're still at least two weeks away from that and we've learned that a lot can happen in two weeks, but for the sake of my thought process, let's just go with it...
Justin and I sit on our sofa every night to talk about the day, our fears, frustrations, and wounded hopes. We are mentally exhausted. We wonder how much longer will we live in a state of uncertainty. Then we think of the resolutions to the uncertainty and those scare us, too. Our best case scenario is that David's heart will recover enough to come off the milrinone in a few more months. Then we will work on the long road to physical recovery. All the work we and his caretakers put in to help him sit, eat, grab, roll and more will begin again. In some ways he's far from where he was prior to the surgery and that is simply discouraging.
The other scenarios we come up with aren't so rosy, and I'm not ready to share them yet, if ever. Going down the "what if" road is never a good thing. I can't tell you how easy it is and how destructive it is. It takes our focus off of God every time and leads us to crappy places. We just want to know what will happen to David and it's not our time to know yet. That is a hard, hard pill to swallow sometimes.
Nothing that we can see from our perspective is either black or white. It's all a muddled gray.