May, 2006

Wednesday, May 31st. About six weeks ago a "Big R" store had its grand opening in East Wenatchee.  When the flyer came through the mail the kids were ecstatic.  They have been watching with interest as it was in the process of construction just across from Costco over the winter.  Well, today while Isabella and Mom and a big sister were at Dr. Eisert's to check the baby's weight, Dad and the rest of the Turnbulls crossed the threshold of "Big R."  It was an electric moment.  The first thing we beheld was a row of horse saddles.  Then, we saw such items as truck strong boxes and fencing.  It only got better.  We moved onto the garden section where we found a new sprayer for the hose.  You would not believe how exciting that can be.  The girls have been using a sprayer purchased about ten years ago and now they have one that allows them the freedom to water plants on settings like "mist" or "shower" or "cone" or "soaker"!  We have joined the modern age!   One of our projects in homeschool this Spring was planting starts for a garden. This will be the first garden that the girls have been a part of and we are all looking forward to planting it very soon.  And now, they will be able to water it in utter style.  Thanks "Big R."  (Yes, this is an unpaid advertisement.) 

Isabella has lost an ounce of weight since last Friday.  We were hoping she was starting to make up that lost half pound and get back up to her birth weight, but Dr. Eisert reminded us that it is normal for it to take a while for a baby to reach that mark.  Nevertheless, we would appreciate your prayers that we would do a good job of feeding her and that she would do a good job of eating.  Right now she is still in the happy throes of newborn grogginess and endless napping so feeding her can be like trying to coax a sloth into action  Sometimes I watch her dozing and I begin to grow jealous of the special relationship she and sleep have.  I am thinking of submitting a resolution to Congress to the effect that newborns take care of their parents for the two weeks after a birth so that those tired old people can catch up on their sleep.  Something tells me that she probably needs a nap more than I do.  Sleep, Isabella, and get nice and plump. 

We had a birthday party for her on Monday.  See the photo of the celebrity sleeping through her party and all of the loud cheering.  She is wearing the hat that Trinity, a friend of ours from church, gave her.  The reason she is wearing it at the time is because her one-year-old brother doesn't like people to have hats without wearing them.  He insisted that she keep it on.  She did not refuse him. 

Already I find that I am beginning to take her excellent health and her existence as a given in this household.  Then I stop and remember that just over a week ago we were wondering how she and her mom were going to be.  And today Isabella is healthy and strong and beautiful and alive.  She is like a soft refrain in a song. Every time we really look at her and think what she has been through, she seems to sing in quiet tones that we should gladly give thanks to God for the mere fact of her existence and for His mercy.

Saturday, May 27th.  While this week has been naturally busy for Christie and I, Jane, Christie's cousin from Oregon, has been here serving our family, feeding our children, helping them make the kind of crafts that Dad and Mom never have the energy for, taking them to the museum, teaching them to cook new recipes, encouraging them and making our house function.  I can't imagine how we would have coordinated this week without her superior help.  Thank you, Jane. 

Yesterday, Brian and Paula came over to give our flower beds new life.  They packed a lot of work into one afternoon and they designed the results to be something that will bloom into color that Christie can enjoy throughout the summer.  Of course, the Turnbull kids became instant gardeners when they arrived.  Here is a look at part of the transformation.

 While they were working on the lawn, Christie and I took Isabella to Wenatchee to see Dr. Eisert.  You may recall that he came immediately after she was born to examine her.  It was a great comfort to us and so we were eager to see him again to show him how well his newest patient is doing.  We think she is probably the best one-month-early baby he has ever seen.  One of the things he told us the day after she was born was that it was highly probable that Isabella would have a generous case of jaundice.  It is not uncommon for early babies to develop jaundice because their livers are immature and unable to process the waste in the bloodstream efficiently.  Besides being premature, because Isabella's blood type is different from her mother's, she was, for that reason alone, quite likely to become jaundiced.  In most ways, she was set-up to turn pretty yellow and, Dr. Eisert said, would likely need to spend two days or so in the hospital under the special light.  However, in keeping with this week's theme of joyful surprises, she has no jaundice.  You can see Dr. Eisert in action in this picture.  As a precocious child, Isabella is trying to place his stethoscope slightly to the left to help him hear her heartbeat more accurately. 

As I have been pondering how God is going to glorify Himself in this little girl's life, it occurred to me that He has already brought great glory to Himself through Isabella Vivian.  For anyone who knows that she has spent the majority of her gestation potentially exposed to harsh chemotherapy and all of its side-effects, the fact that she is healthy is a glorious miracle.  And when we consider that she is one month early and weighs and measures just like a full-term baby and so far has suffered none of the very normal struggles that a premature baby usually experiences, it seems merely reasonable to attribute great praise to God for His mercy and strength and kindness.  And so, in one sense, just by living, Isabella brings glory to God.  So be it. 

Here are two pictures of that girl.  I have been trying to capture some fitting photos, but it is not easy.  In the second picture you will note that she has already mastered the face-occluding outthrust hand as if to say "no comment" to all the photographers and reporters who will undoubtedly be following her around.

Shout joyfully to God all the earth; sing the glory of His name; make His praise glorious . . . All the earth will worship You, and will sing praises to You; they will sing praises to Your name. Come and see the works of God, who is awesome in His deeds toward the sons of men.  --Psalm 66:1-2,4-5

Tuesday, May 23rd.  Oh taste and see that the Lord is good!  Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!  --Psalm 34:8

Come and see what God has done; He is awesome in His deeds toward the children of man. --Psalm 66:5 

We give thanks to You, O God; we give thanks, for Your name is near. We recount  Your wondrous deeds.  --Psalm 75:1

At 7:22 p.m. on May 22nd, Isabella Vivian was born.  The first thing we looked for and the first thing we saw was that she had lots of hair.  She had more hair than her mom.  If I was a more demonstrative person I would have let out a wild war whoop or at least done a backwards flip.  As it happened, all we could really pull off was a lot of crying.  She breathes well.  She eats well.  She sleeps like a professional.  And also, I should mention, she has lots of hair.  Although she came four weeks early, she weighed six pounds and 11 ounces; and she stretches out to be 19 inches long!  For all that we and the doctors and nurses can tell, she is perfectly healthy.  That is God's own kindness to us.   We thank You, our merciful Lord Jesus. 

So many specific prayers were effectively answered that it is impossible to recount them all.  The big ones include the fact that Christie and Isabella are doing remarkably well.  The moment that Christie finished the great work she had begun that morning, she felt immediately better than she had since November.  We are also quite sure that Isabella feels much better than she did when the induced contractions began in the early afternoon. We are thankful that Christie did not have to have a Caesarean section and that her labor was not terribly long. And the significant labor that she had to endure, she really had the strength for.  One could say this is all a function of coincidence.  Rather, we are sticking with the truth of the Scriptures which tell us that we should "draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."  That's what we experienced: His grace in a time of need.  He deserves great thanks! We also thank all of you who prayed for us.  And we are grateful to Dr. Pitts and Dr. Eisert (who have been great friends to us as well as eminently competent professionals) and Rita and DeAnn and Laura and Barb and all of the other nurses who cared for us and Isabella.  Thank you. 

Though she had recently finished eating and didn't quite have the manners to wipe her mouth when we took the picture (or maybe it was her uncivilized, giddy parents), we certainly think this kid is beautiful in the extreme.  Here is the first, free, unretouched, but unautographed published photo of Isabella. 

In the next installment we hope to have more actual photos of the legendary baby. 

Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together!  --Psalm 34:3

Sunday, May 21st. Tomorrow brings a new day and hopefully a new baby to our household.  I cannot find words to describe how feverish the anticipation is around here.  Christie has spent the last two days in a fit of cleaning that even surpassed her past efforts these last two weeks, just as a hurricane excels a thunderstorm.  Every child over two knows exactly what is happening tomorrow and simply cannot wait to see their new sister.  Mom and Dad are also tolerably anxious. On the one hand we are relieved and excited that this long waiting is going to be over and we will get to enjoy our daughter.  On the other, we are fairly nervous about the unknowns.  For instance, many mothers who have had their labors induced have told some frightful stories of two or three day labors.  Also, we are naturally wondering how Isabella's health will appear. And, additionally, I am concerned about how Christie, having just completed four months of chemo, is going to have the energy to deliver a child!   It puts us in the actually enviable situation of having our only hope in God for strength and help and health.

Please pray for Christie.  I am asking God to provide for a smooth and unlengthy labor.  We are praying that Isabella would be in the right position for the big event.   I am praying that God strengthens and provides in every aspect for this mother and her baby.  We are also praying that God would receive honor and glory through all that happens this week.  Thank you for praying with us.

But as for me, I will sing of your strength; yes, I will joyfully sing of Your lovingkindness in the morning, for You have been my stronghold, and a refuge in the day of my distress.  O my strength, I will sing praises to You; for God is my stronghold, the God who shows me lovingkindness.  --Psalm 59:16-17  

Tuesday, May 16th.  When we met with Dr. Smith ten days ago, just before Christie's last treatment, we got a new view of the plan for the summer months and beyond.  After the baby is born, Christie will begin Taxol and Herceptin in the second week of June. Taxol is a chemotherapy drug derived from the bark of the yew tree.  (If predictions come true, it should finish off the rest of Christie's eyebrows and eyelashes.)  Herceptin is actually an antibody that helps disable the receptors on those cancer cells. From what we have learned, it has relatively minimal side-effects.  Both of these medicines will be administered weekly through the end of August.  At that point, she should be done with Taxol and will have nine more months of Herceptin.  Then, in September, we are scheduled to begin radiation for six to seven weeks.  That is to be given five days a week.  We have much more to learn about the effects and benefits and detractions of radiation before we are ready to tackle it.  Sometime also in June, Christie will have a CAT scan to determine if any other locations of cancer are apparent. 

Meanwhile, there are just six more days until labor is induced to set the stage for the long-awaited appearance of Isabella Vivian.  We are naturally eager and thankful that this moment is on the near horizon.  Thanks be to God for his grace and kindness and sustaining mercy during these past months.  I am very grateful for His care for my wife during her pregnancy and for the hope that Isabella can be done with chemotherapy and that Christie, though not finished with that stuff, can now be more assertive in treating her symptoms. 

I sought the Lord and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.  Psalm 34:4

Monday, May 15th. Our three-year-old was playing upstairs while her mother was cleaning this morning.  She brought a suitcase to her mom (an old one we had found in the basement several years ago and allow the girls to play "dress up" and "travel" with) and asked her to open it.  Mom complied.  Then, the daughter tried to carry the open suitcase, which was filled with toys, back to another bedroom.  That is no easy task.  As she walked through the hall, while just perched at the very top of  the staircase, she fell down. Fortunately she fell onto the open suitcase and not down the stairs.  Gradually, she recovered from her shock, picked herself up out of the suitcase and said aloud (to no one in particular), "That was trippy . . . so trippy."  We have intentionally not invested a great deal of time in stocking our children's vocabulary with 60's slang.  I am quite sure she does not know what copasetic means, nor groovy, and neither would she have ever heard the word "trippy" coming out of her parents' mouths.  So I guess I must assume this is just another manifestation of her tendency to genius.  It may be hard to classify what type of genius (that is genus of genius) this indicates, but there is no doubt it is a sign of it. 

Wednesday, May 10th.  This past five days--since her final treatment of Adriamycin--have been some of the best of the bunch for Christie.  Her systems are working relatively well.  Each morning and evening I interrogate my wife.  I don't have a clipboard or hang a bare lightbulb over her head, but I do run through a checklist of her various systems and their status.  Thankfully, they have been checking out on the positive side. She's got energy!  Actually, there has been a controlled nuclear reaction in the central nervous system that has just one, simple cause: childbirth.  As it happens with every Turnbull baby's arrival, the nearing date of this one's birth has sent Christie  into some kind of hyperdrive that usually lasts for a week or two and that results in the reclaiming and recivilizing of every room and corner of our house.  Entropy, tremble and shake!  Your days are coming to a quick end in this house!  Nothing, not even the laws of physics, can withstand the organizing power of a pregnant woman soon to deliver! At this moment, nearly the entire upstairs has been cleansed and purged of microscopic dirt, useless items, dishevelment and oafishness.  The next phase is the main floor. It is so heartening to see that not even chemotherapy can suppress these great welcoming preparations.

Saturday, May 6th.  There was general rejoicing and celebration for us on Friday as Christie completed her final installment of Adriamycin and Cytoxan.  I am really proud of Christie.  She has endured this phase of the treatment plan with great determination and we thank God it is over.  Thank you for praying over the course of these several months for her.  

Strangely, the day began with a series of unsettling happenings.  First, as we were running late to get on the road to Wenatchee I was forced to bring my bowl of oatmeal into the car to finish it while driving down the valley.  We had progressed a sum total of two blocks when I looked down to realize that the bowl I had set next to me on the seat had tipped over and covered the side of my pants and much of the seat with sticky, warm oatmeal.  Needless to say, it would not have been a fashion statement to the nurses and doctors we were to meet that day.  We circled by the house for new pants and some other things I had forgotten.  In a demonstration of her supreme composure, my wife actually said very little and maintained a patient demeanor as this side trip added yet more lateness to the time deficit.  We had to scramble, but made it to the clinic in time and then the next difficulty ensued.  It will not come as a shock for me to say that Christie's port did not work.  By the time they had given up on it in earnest, three nurses had tried all of their tricks including things like having Christie hold her breath, raise her arms, and lay down.  When it works we should call it "Port Royal," when it does not, it earns the name "The Port of No Return." The nurse had to use an IV which, once again, also did not prove very cooperative.  However, that is where the trouble stopped, and  the rest of  the day was as pleasant as it could be.  The nurses in the Infusion room are remarkable people.  When I watch them working with Christie and other patients who have cancer, their patience and dedication and competence and consideration are very notable.  We are thankful to be able to receive this kind of excellent care.  Finally, in order to properly commemorate the event we went out to lunch (and bought shakes for the kids) and then on to Costco for celebratory shopping as a family.  (Maybe it is just us, but our whole family likes going to Costco to buy things.) Thank you for praying for the Turnbulls. 

Of course, all of our attention is plastered on the place on the calendar where one reads the number 22.  On that date, we meet with Dr. Pitts for the big determination of when Isabella will be encouraged to take the stage.  If things go as planned, we should meet her on that day or the next.