Cancer.
Isaac is tucked into my bed right now after this whirlwind of a day. There are still many questions and I think I am largely running on adrenaline and faith. Somehow, I am still raising a hallelujah in the middle of this storm. Right now, this diagnosis brings a calm where there once felt chaotic unknown. And it lays a path in front of us that lifts the fog a tiny bit.
The doctor called during lunch. Not expecting any results yet, I answered expecting him to just ask how he did. But quickly, I learned that we do have results and they are not favorable. Suspicious is the word they used. I also quickly learned that when it comes to making appointments with pediatric oncologists, they just call and tell you when to be there. And life suddenly has to revolve and fit around the people who we’re entrusting to make our child well.
This ask puts a pit in my stomach, but we don’t get to choose the hard in our lives. My sweet Isaac Lee needs prayer. Over the course of the last couple of months, Isaac developed a very large lymph node in his neck that grew quickly. We took him to the doctor a few times, and an ultrasound scan came up abnormal. Tomorrow morning at 8am, he is undergoing a biopsy to check for malignancy. His primary care doctor told us very frankly that he is 50/50 on the lymph node having cancer in it.
As we all know, these social media photos only tell part of the story, and the same is true for me. I never pointed out that I had tears streaming down my face in one of those photos with my daughter. I didn’t instagram the scolding and discipline that took place between shots of our family photos. I never told the story of how my adoration for my children was deeply clouded by my postpartum depression.
Why, my soul, are you cast down? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 42:5)
This is one of the verses that was on repeat in my mind during my freshman year of college. Reading this passage takes me back through a number of years and events, remembering feeling as if God put this in the Bible just for me. We have all had months, or years, where we could relate, haven’t we?
I would have never said it out loud and would have rebuked any one who said that adoption is the business of rescuing. I flew into China, fully aware of my inadequacies. Never once thinking that I was specially equipped for the task, I often wondered if I had “heard” God right in this call. It was a passion burning in my heart for certain, but I was terrified.
There are so many layers to this story, you see. There is the story of a baby boy born on one side of the world, only to find home and family on the other side. There is the story of a family of four growing to a family of five. A story of brothers. A story of a father and a new son. A mother of boys. And, my favorite, a story of a God who does great works through broken and needy people. Surprising us. Changing us. Carrying us.
I have so hesitated to share this journey, at the risk of being misunderstood. But there are some of you out there who will understand my sentiments exactly. And you are the ones who need to hear this. Despite yourself, you are lovable and loving. Despite your hard and painful now, there is grace to be found.
