Click here to read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.
When Wesley was one month old, we brought him in to our pediatrician's office to get his blood drawn for a chromosomal karyotype. We were told that the results would be in within a week. My doctor told me that he had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, but that he was happy to run the tests to allay my fears. When I had not received the results a week later, I called the office only to be told that the lab had contacted the doctor's office to ask specifically what they were supposed to be looking for. As I look back, I can see how God used this phone call to again prepare our hearts for the news we would soon be receiving. For why would a lab have additional questions on normal looking chromosomes?
A week later, I called again for the results and was told that they were in but that my doctor had not yet seen them. As soon as he saw them, they would give me a call with the results. A few hours later, after the doctor's office had closed, the phone rang and I saw my doctor's name on the caller ID - not the doctor's office, but my doctor's personal phone.
When I answered that phone call, the world as I knew it was shattered. My doctor gently told me that he had the results from Wesley's chromosomal karyotype, and that Wesley had 47 chromosomes. My mind scrambled, as in that moment I could not for the life of me remember how many chromosomes most people have. I did my best to listen to him, but instead of hearing his words, all I felt was my world caving in and the rivers of sorrow swirling around me as if to drown me. I wrote down the name of the geneticist he wanted me to see, thanked him for calling me, and hung up. I felt numb and in shock. After calling Mike, telling him the news, and asking him to leave work early and come home, I called a dear friend. I remember sobbing uncontrollably on the phone to her and saying over and over, "Why? Why did God do this? This can't be happening. This can't be true!" I will never forget her tears of compassion and love as she cried with me. That night she and her husband came over and just sat with Mike and I as we cried and struggled through our feelings and how they lined up with what what we knew to be true about God in our heads.
Another friend of mine also called that evening, and to this day I regularly pray that the words she spoke to me will one day come true. I remember her saying that her prayer was that Wesley would be filled with the Holy Spirit from a young age and that his life would point many to the Lord and bring much glory to God.
The day I received the news of Wesley's diagnosis was the day that Isaiah 41:10 truly became real to me. Now that my fear was an all-encompassing fear for the future of my child for the rest of his life, God's promise that He was with me became so much greater to me. For the rest of my life as I cared for my precious Wesley, no matter what happened, God would be with me. He would never leave my side! Oh what a wonderful promise! As the rivers of sorrow crashed over me, God's promise that He would strengthen me for the road ahead and that He would help me as I walked each day along the road that He had ordained for me gave me the hope that I needed to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Oh, and the promise that He would uphold me. How I clung to that! In my mind I pictured the rivers of sorrow threatening to sweep me away, but the Lord reaching down and lifting me up and upholding me with His strong, righteous, right hand. God was promising to never let me go. No matter what the future held, I could know for certain that God, because of His abundant and merciful grace, would hold me up and never let go of me.
Click here to read Part 5.
Click here to read Part 5.