Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

When our son, Caleb was seven weeks old, we found ourselves in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) of the hospital. It certainly wasn’t something anyone could’ve predicted.  And it was overwhelming, mentally, physically and emotionally. One of the issues I struggled with during that time was wondering if we were making the right decisions.

 

Lack of knowledge

Did we even have a choice? Could we say no to anything the medical team recommended? I didn’t know. I was just trying to catch my breath. Everything was happening so fast, it was hard to breathe. We just wound up agreeing to everything the medical team recommended. What did we know?

 

I only have a rudimentary knowledge of anatomy and even though I love biology and how the human body works, complicated medical procedures that use words that I can neither pronounce nor spell didn’t fit into that knowledge. So there was some trepidation (on my part) about the decisions we were making. 

 

Not enough time

If I had it my way, I would’ve preferred to have some time before making important decisions. I’m the kind of person who likes to know all my options, weigh the pros and cons and then make a decision. I want to have ALL the facts and hear ALL sides of the argument. I want to know side effects, risks, alternative treatment plans – anything to make an informed decision. But that’s not what happened in this situation. We were tossed into the deep end of the pool without a life preserver and we didn’t know how to swim. 

 

Decisions needed to be made quickly and I don’t like spur-of-the-moment decision-making unless it’s deciding where we’re going to eat or something trivial like that. But definitely not medical decisions affecting the health of my son. 

 

Fear

I know now it was fear that was behind my struggle.  I was worried about making mistakes; worried about how the medications would affect Caleb’s growth and development. These were his formative years when his brain was growing, making connections and pathways and I didn’t want anything to negatively affect that. But there was no time to explore alternative medicines or even form rational thoughts. We were just trying to stay afloat.

 

Trusting God

Not to mention, I was still getting used to the idea that I was a parent. In fact the first couple of times the nurse addressed us as “mom and dad”, I didn’t know who she was talking to. We’d only been parents for a whole seven weeks! What did we know? I couldn’t believe the medical team was expecting us to make decisions. We had absolutely NO experience.

 

Yet, I was the mom and this was my son. Regardless of how comfortable I felt about the situation, I needed to make a decision. And that thought scared me worse than any horror movie ever could. That’s when it dawned on me that I wasn’t alone. Not only was God with me but He was also in control.

 

I didn’t need to have a medical degree to figure out what to do. I didn’t even need to be an experienced parent. All I needed to do was make the best decisions I could with the knowledge I have and trust God for the outcome. You see, God isn’t limited by my decisions: He can do whatever He wants. He has the ability to turn what I thought was bad into good. He is in control.

 

And this is what I remember every time I have to make decisions that overwhelm or frighten me. Mind you, it doesn’t make the decision-making process easier, sometimes I still struggle but it takes a big weight off my heart when I finally make the decision. 

 

We may throw the dice, but the Lord determines how they fall.  (Prov 16:33 NLT)

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