
Dear friends and family,
Boy, where did we leave off? Many of you have stayed
informed through the phoneline or the grapevine; many
more have no doubt wondered when the next email would
bring you up to speed. We are thankful for those who
have inquired out of love and for those who have
abstained, again out of love. Thank you, also, for
continuing in the mysterious and essential work of
prayer.
Eliza will be six months old on Saturday. She has
grown to exceed 15 pounds, and her height has
increased as well. Other than these physical
dimensions, Eliza shows no signs of development.
Mercifully, she does enjoy being held now--and
sometimes cannot be calmed otherwise (a mixed
blessing). With the help of a 3x/day dose of a
sedative, in addition to spending the bulk of her day
removed from all stimulation, Eliza does not have the
prolonged screaming fits she once had. Even when Luke
more-or-less gently shakes his little sister's leg
(before the powers-that-be admonish), she bears it
patiently. Perhaps it's the southern belle in her.
In general, caring for Eliza does not present
excessive physical challenges, once you get used to
it.
On the other hand, caring for Eliza does continue to
present significant emotional challenges. Anyone who
has cared for a newborn will attest to the fact that
the first month is intensely trying: here is a being
who demands all your energy, deprives you of sleep,
and gives nothing in return. Having cared for a
newborn before, I know that to survive the first month
one must keep in mind that "this too shall pass," this
baby will learn to smile, giggle, coo...and will,
before you know it, grow into someone whose company is
truly enjoyable. Eliza, on the other hand, has been
functionally a newborn (though less responsive and
with less recognition of Mom and Dad even than that)
for six months now. Six months of giving all you have
without even a smile and no expectation that this will
change--physically difficult, no, but emotionally
quite a load to carry. Add to this the cabin fever
produced by parenting a baby who is not only difficult
to take out but who makes it very clear that she
cannot handle the stimulation of going out and you can
begin to imagine the state we're in.
On the medical front, Eliza continues to have
seizures, averaging 2-3/hour, depending on the hour,
despite three anti-seizure meds: phenobarbitol,
keppra, and her sedative, clonazepam. Eliza receives
1/8 liter/minute of oxygen through her cannula. We
sometimes increase this to 1/4; other times she can
get by without a cannula at all, as you may have
noticed in pictures (link at the end of this email to
photo album--updated photos to come soon).
Eliminating the oxygen entirely would require
decreasing the sedative. We tried this once and
suffice it to say that we won't be trying it again
soon. Eliza is fed through the tube in her stomach 18
hours/day; we do not plan to resume any attempts at
feeding by mouth. She still vomits occasionally,
usually following a seizure. Her difficulty in
clearing her airway makes these occasions rather
dramatic at times. She still receives physical
therapy twice a week at our house, though we have
discontinued speech/feeding therapy and, as of today,
occupational therapy, neither of which seemed any
longer to be beneficial.
As I gazed into the beauty of a Carolina summer sky
this afternoon, wisps of clouds floating above, I
sought God's face. He directed me to lower my eyes to
see him aright. There are times to ponder the majesty
of creation and its Creator. Today, the Spirit
testified to my spirit about the marvelous lowliness
of the Son: "...one who in every respect has been
tempted as we are, yet without sin." God knows this
struggle first-hand ("every respect"!). We are
fighting an excruciatingly unique battle, but it is
not beyond the scope of what Jesus Christ faced and
overcame. "Let us then with confidence draw near to
the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and
find grace to help in time of need."
We confess a temptation to hate Eliza, and to curse
the God who has the power to end all suffering yet
delays. We receive mercy. We desire to love Eliza,
and to praise the God who works all things for good
for those who are called according to his purpose. We
find grace to help us.
We pray that you may know the hope we have in Jesus.
In his name alone, we stand before the Creator of all
and receive immeasurably more than what we ask or
imagine, in this life and the life to come.
Love,
dixie jax
P.S. Luke continues to enjoy thoroughly his summer,
having just today spent hours slipping and sliding
down a 98-foot waterslide (with mom along for every
ride, of course). He appears satisfied with the
explanation that Eliza's "brain doesn't work," and
with the assurance that, when she goes away to God,
she will get a "good brain."


