Thank you.

Y’all?! Andrew and I are completely overwhelmed by the far-reaching tentacles of our support system. So many of you have already shared Cara’s story and offered your support. Your prayers and financial gifts are incredibly humbling to us. We are grateful beyond words. Though we are blessed to have insurance, the mounting travel costs and out-of-pocket expenses have been a source of anxiety for us on a very tight budget. Being able to focus more on Cara and her surgery and recovery is a gift I don’t know how to say thank you for. “Thank you” doesn’t seem sufficient, but thank you.

We are eager to “pay it forward” and already have plans to do so.

Yesterday, we were in Columbia for Cara’s pre-op appointments. As usual, she was a rockstar. She smiled and laughed the entire time we talked through the operation with the surgical team, signed our liability releases, and discussed logistical plans. As usual, the surgeons bolstered our confidence in them as they patiently answered our questions. We rewarded Cara with her first taste of BBQ on the way home, which she very much appreciated. 

 

Though I don’t know how I’m going to walk away from her that morning, I think we’re just ready to get the thing over with. We want to be “on the other side,” recovering and marveling at her resilience and spirit.

Thank you for your continued prayers, and thank you for blessing us with your love.

Now, I have a reason to hate snow.

We thought Jackson was just crazy for not loving (okay, refusing to eat) ice cream. We thought it was “a texture thing,” something that might change as he got older.

Then we had hives, an epi shot in an ambulance, more hives, and an appointment with an allergist.

Turns out, Jackson’s brain was already working for his body. Turns out, cold-induced urticaria is a real thing that can lead to mild reactions or severe anaphylaxis. Turns out, Jackson’s inclination to turn down ice cream may have a legitimate biological explanation.

So, now we’ll avoid ice-cold foods, be wary of cold pools and other bodies of water, and strictly avoid skin exposure to cold.

We could be sad about shorter snow days and no milkshakes, but we choose to be grateful knowing that God is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent.

Friends - don’t think you aren’t fearfully and wonderfully made, knit together by a sovereign Creator (Psalm 139:13-14); don’t think He doesn’t know the number of hairs on your head and find you more valuable than birds or flowers (Matthew 10:29-31).  

It amazes me to reflect on the many ways that God chooses to reveal Himself to me, reminding me that my children are His first, and only He knows their future. I’m thinking we’ll need that reminder often over the next few weeks as we prepare to hand our littlest to a surgical team for 10-12 hours.

Also, we need to move south.

The board is set. The pieces are moving.

That's Tolkien, in case you forgot. :)

After sharing our news about Cara's diagnosis and need for surgery, so many of you reached out to us. You've shared your cranio stories (I have new friends!), you've called/messaged/texted to express your love and let us know that we are in your thoughts and prayers, and you have encouraged us with songs and scripture verses. Know that we cling mightily to those, even if they are received with just a "like" or a smile.

Over the last few weeks/months, we've been back and forth to Columbia several times, meeting all of Cara's surgical team. Her doctors are so knowledgeable and have been so gracious answering our questions and addressing our concerns. Right now, the plan is for Cara to have her surgery Wednesday, March 11. The date makes it more real to us, but we are confident in her team of doctors and, more importantly,  God's sovereignty.

During our transition from graduate school to our next job and home (you can keep praying about that, btw), we never expected to be preparing for a surgery for our sweet baby girl. But, here we are, and we know that God is with us and will never leave us (Deut. 31:6-8). We believe He is capable of planting trees in the desert (Isaiah 41:19), and we know we are more valuable to Him than the birds of the air (Matthew 6:25-34).

A referral...and a diagnosis.

For those of you who don’t know, Cara was referred to a geneticist by our pediatrician after some initial DNA testing came back normal. Our beautiful baby girl has some abnormal facial features that the geneticist believed to be associated with premature fusing of the cranial bones. He referred us for a CT, which we opted to do in Columbia because the geneticist preferred the surgical approach of the team there, and it would allow him to better manage Cara’s care.

Cara’s CT appointment Tuesday went about as well as it could have gone. She was a champ during her required 5 hour fast and slept the entire 3-hour drive from Springfield to Columbia. She was given a small dose of oral anesthetic (pentabarb for you medical people) and went to sleep within 10 minutes for Andrew. The CT took about 5 minutes (it took longer to transport her to the exam room than it did to run the test). I was allowed to hold her on the way back upstairs and until she woke up, which was maybe another 20 or 30 minutes. Her vitals were awesome, so we were sent home. Andrew and I grabbed a bite to eat at Applebee’s (where Andrew ate free for Veteran’s Day!), and Cara only complained for the last 15 minutes of our drive home. She’s a rock star!

We weren’t expecting to hear results until next week, but I got a call from the genetic counselor today. She confirmed the geneticist’s diagnosis of craniosynostosis, though only one (not several) of the sutures is fused (top of her head from ear to ear). Surgery will be needed for that. I also heard from the surgical team today, and we have an appointment with them in December. At that time, the surgical team will discuss with us their plan for surgery (both what to do and when). The nurse explained to me that unless there are signs of intracranial pressure, the ideal time to do this type of surgery is between 9 and 11 months of age (Feb. – Apr. for us).

We don’t know a lot about what to expect from the surgery in terms of recovery yet, but we feel really good about this surgical team. The nurses we saw yesterday spoke highly of the surgeon (which we know they don’t have to do), and the nurse practitioner I spoke to today gave us a lot of confidence in their experience. When I told her that we were only 2 weeks into this whole thing and didn’t know a whole lot, she recommended that we read information from their website (not the crazy internet!) and that we just focus on bringing Cara to her appointments. The surgical team would take care of the rest.

Our geneticist will decide later whether to pursue genetic testing to determine if the craniosynostosis is symptomatic of a genetic syndrome (in which case other symptoms might later manifest) or just an isolated occurrence.

Knowing what we’re dealing with has given us a sense of peace, honestly. We have a lot of questions that still need answering, but we trust that God will continue to be sovereign in all of this. We trust Him to bring full healing to our sweet girl, and we trust Him to provide us with all of the other job/insurance/re-location/etc. details in the right timing.

Carolyn is beautiful and perfect already, just as God made her. Any scars that such a surgery might leave visible will only enhance her beauty to us and help us all tell the story of God’s grace and mercy.

Thank you for joining us in prayer.

You can read more about her condition and meet her team of doctors here: http://smilesforkids.missouri.edu/common-conditions/craniosynostosis/

Happy 2nd Birthday, Evie-girl. :)

Evie,

Today, you're two, and I'm in denial.

You might be the sassiest person I've ever known with your enunciated "t" in that "what?" response of yours and your eyebrow-raised looks when you are doubtful you deserve correction of any kind. You climb everything, yet you have a fear of falling off anything that requires you to lie on your back or play upside down. You are gorgeous with your long eyelashes that frame big blue eyes and soft, blonde hair that sweeps across your face. And you are absolutely the most genuinely compassionate person I've ever known. If anyone has a "hurt" or sheds a tear, you are immediately there to ask what's wrong and provide comfort in the form of a hug, a kiss, a gentle touch, or a smile. What a natural you have been at this big sister thing! And, you make me laugh every day. For all that, Little Love, you are a blessing to all who know you.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Evie!
Mama

Carolyn's Birth Story

To say that I was a bit more anxious about Carolyn’s birth than I was about Jackson’s or Evie’s is probably an understatement. I didn’t know what to expect from my OB since my favorite midwife delivered both other kids back in GA, and though my OB was highly regarded as “the midwife doctor,” he lacked bedside charm, and he wasn’t very conversational about how things might go. I didn’t know what to expect from the hospital regarding my options for everything from pain management to people in the room. And, I didn’t know what to expect without my normal support system. Combine that with the stressors of a recent move, a toddler who began crawling out of her crib three days earlier, and a husband who works over an hour away and was still recovering from intense back pain, and I felt things were a bit out of my control.

I noticed contractions, which even became fairly regular at times, beginning Friday, 5/23. Though they weren’t painful contractions, I would mentally prepare myself for the work to come only to see them dissipate. This made tired both physically and mentally, and it happened all weekend and into Monday. 

I woke up Tuesday, May 27, and I knew baby was coming. My contractions began in the early morning as opposed to late at night. I showered and got dressed for my doctor’s appointment that morning, but I was super grateful that my mom and Andrew were able to feed and clothe my big kids. After checking to make sure that baby was not in duress since she was technically almost a week overdue, my doctor discovered that I was 3-4cm dilated and thought that active labor would be coming soon. I was allowed to go home, and I told him that I would see him later that night. He scheduled an induction for the following morning, just in case. I knew I wouldn’t need that appointment, though.

I rested once we got home, and my contractions came about every 8-10 minutes. They were growing in intensity, especially when I got up and moved around. Before her nap, Evie came in and kissed my arm and belly, clearly concerned about my “hurts.” I snacked a little, and Andrew called work to let them know he wasn’t coming, and he started making arrangements for the kids. While the kids napped, I paced the house and labored in the living room. Contractions kept coming, but were not regulating or intense enough to be quickly progressing. I played music and tried to stay relaxed. Once the kids woke up, I wanted to labor in our bedroom. The kids were upset that I was in some pain and totally thrown off by the fact that I was unavailable to them.

Hilary showed up during naptime and was constantly by my side for the rest of the day. She massaged, applied counter-pressure, coached my breathing and relaxation, and provided encouraging words. I remember her voice especially being soothing to me throughout. Crystal came soon after and helped give Hilary some breaks. To help contractions along, I opted for a long shower where I had the hot water for some pain relief and standing really allowed contractions to get stronger and regulate.

At about 3:15pm, I was encouraged to head to the hospital. That ride in the massive truck was not super pleasant, and I’m pretty sure I punched Andrew at least once for being smart. In triage, the nurse indicated that I was 6cm dilated and moved us along quickly to a labor and delivery room. We got settled in there at 4:15pm, where we met Andrew’s mom Carol and sister Suzannah who captured the rest of the events on camera.  After blood work draws (two attempts at those – I had the ugly bruises to prove it thanks to those low platelets) and establishing an IV, I labored on the birthing ball. As contractions intensified, I wasn’t confident on my feet, but didn’t even want to think about getting in the bed. I know I looked at Andrew at one point and asked him if I could be done. I don’t remember his response. I do remember falling back into Crystal on more than one occasion during that time. She’s a good sport!

At 5:15pm, I allowed my OB to “open” (not break) my water because he promised me that I would fully dilate faster. Getting in the bed was less than pleasant and the “procedure” was incredibly uncomfortable. There was such a change in my belly shape at that point. Baby descended quickly after that, and the contractions were so intense and coming so quickly I couldn’t move out of the bed and had to pant to avoid pushing.

I was overwhelmed.

After hearing that I was 9cm a few minutes later, I burst into tears. I’ve never cried before during labor and didn’t know why I was crying then. Whispered coaching and encouragement from Hilary and Crystal, eye contact and soft touches from my mom, and seeing familiar faces helped me gather strength. My OB and his med student came in “suited up” at this point. He asked me to move down on the bed, but I told him I couldn’t. I was frozen in place. He firmly asked me to open my eyes and look at him. I did. The calm in his eyes and the confidence in his voice gave me renewed strength, and he coached me through the rest. 

This delivery was unlike anything I have seen or heard, and it wasn’t something I could have prepared myself for. My doctor had me get into position. I pushed twice, and at 5:53pm, I pulled my daughter out of me with my own hands and laid her on my chest. Coolest thing I’ve ever done.

Sweet Carolyn was here, and I had delivered her myself. Andrew’s mom cut her cord (because we all know Andrew refuses to do that). She nursed well right away, and we all “ooo-ed” and “aw-ed” over her perfect features and resemblance to her older brother.

Things happened quickly after that. Carolyn had to spend some time in the warmer, and Andrew went home to get Jackson and Evie. While Evie ran right up to my bed and asked if my belly still hurt, Jackson met his littlest sister, introducing himself by saying, “I’m Jackson Ford Purvis, and I’m your big brother.”

All labors and deliveries are different and miraculous, and all three of mine have been experiences I treasure and hold dear. When we chose Carolyn’s name several months ago, we trusted that the Lord would meet all of our needs, but Cara’s birth also showed us that He often grants our requests. I am amazed at His willingness to pour out grace at just the right time and in just the right amount.

As her name might imply, Carolyn is truly our song of hope. 

We're ready...at least we hope so! :)

While Andrew and I always planned on having our third baby, the timing of this pregnancy was a bit of a surprise to us. When we first found out we were pregnant, Evie was still nursing every 3 hours during the day and refused to do much of anything without me, Jackson was still a little resistant with potty training and required my help for most everything, and we were still figuring out how to manage life on one income with Andrew’s fulltime job and graduate school. I had just started tutoring online a few months before and had been asked to move into a mentoring role, and morning sickness was all day long for me for about 7 weeks. I even remember a road trip to GA where we had to pull over so I could become more acquainted with the grass somewhere along 60.

But, we trusted God before, and we had faith that this would be yet another testimony of His grace in our lives.

Evie is still very much a Mama’s girl, but she lets those she likes do things for her now. Most of the time, she goes to the church nursery willingly, reporting afterward, “Mama! I play!” She’s vocal and cooperative, though the mischievous look in her eyes still scares me daily. And, she’s such a compassionate soul, always so in tune with the feelings of everyone around her. She doesn’t miss a tear or a wince, and asks concernedly, “Wass wrong?” She loves her baby cousins Shiloh and Avery and will make a fantastic big sister. She already hugs and kisses my belly and talks to her sister all the time.

Jackson just decided a few weeks ago to be completely potty-trained at nap and night without any pushing or prompting from us. Such great timing so we’re not buying diapers/pull-ups for THREE! He has chores around the house and has become very helpful with everything from entertaining his little sister to climbing under furniture to rescue a pacifier or toy since my big belly doesn’t allow me to do it anymore. He prides himself on taking care of “the girls” and even puffed up with satisfaction that he could move to the back seat of the van as “the big man.”

We’d be lying if we said that “overwhelmed” wasn’t a part of our vocabulary 9 months ago, but as we discover about every other aspect of our lives, God’s grace comes in just the right amount at just the right moment.

This sweet baby reminds us already of God’s unfailing love and provision, and the Hope we have in Him.

We’re ready for you, Carolyn Hope.