Life with Cooper-Part 2: Ready or Not...

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my Mother's womb. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalms 139:13 & 16


To say that finding out I was pregnant with Cooper was a surprise would be a bit of an understatement. It was January 2004. Cole had just turned 7 years old the month before. I was fast approaching my 30th birthday and, though we hadn't been trying to get pregnant, we hadn't been doing anything to prevent it for quite some time. I had taken dozens of pregnancy tests over the years, but it had just never happened. I was beginning to think that maybe Cole was going to be an only child, although my heart still ached for at least one more baby.

 By this time, I was working for a durable medical equipment company that specialized in respiratory equipment and care. I had just accepted a position as Location Manager at our Morristown, TN site. That very night, I went home and took yet another pregnancy test. I was late, but that was not unusual for me. My cycles had never been what anybody would consider "normal". This happened so frequently that I actually had 4 pregnancy tests on hand. I really expected it to be negative, but there was always that little bit of hope, you know? So before I let those hopes get too high, I would take the test, see that it was negative, and move on. Imagine my shock when I saw that little blue plus sign! I just stared at it. My heart started to pound. I took another test. Blue plus sign again! I took another one...and another. Okay, so I had to go drink something in between, but I took all 4 of those pregnancy tests! I believe if I had had more I would have taken those too! I just knew it had to be a mistake!

I remember sitting on the stairs watching for Scott's headlights to come down the driveway. When he finally walked in, I met him at the door and said, "I'm pregnant." and burst into tears. It wasn't that I was unhappy, it was just too much. Now? I'm pregnant NOW? I had just accepted that new job, and I would be 30 when the baby was born, and I had gotten rid of ALL the baby stuff, and, well, it had been a really long time since I had been around a baby, much less had to take care of one, and, and, and...my mind was just racing. But I would come to know that God's timing was perfect and deep down I was really, really happy. Scott was too. Cole, however, was not. When we told him he got mad! He did not want a new baby coming in and taking any of his attention away. He had been an only child for 7 years, after all. Nope, no baby. No, he did not want a little brother or sister. And no, he did not want to talk about it. Period. Oh well! He'd come around. He'd have to, because, ready or not, we were having a baby!

During my first pregnancy with Cole, my blood pressure became an issue within the first trimester. At 23 weeks I went into labor for the first time. I had problems from that point on, taking Brethine to prevent preterm labor, eventually going on bed rest and then being induced at 38 weeks. After he was born,  the high blood pressure persisted and I was officially diagnosed with Chronic Hypertension. I was 22 years old. Eight years later, we knew the likelihood of me having a normal pregnancy was low. As expected, my blood pressure began to creep up with each prenatal visit. By my 20th week, my doctor started me on blood pressure medication. This began a battle we would fight for the next 14 weeks. My blood pressure would not stay down. Any activity or stress made it shoot up to dangerously high levels. I began to have dizzy spells and swelling in my legs and feet. By May, my doctor was strongly advising me to slow down and cut my work hours back. My new job as Location Manager was proving to be a bit taxing on my little pregnant body. The site was a one hour drive from our house-one way. We were preparing for a big JCAHO inspection which required me to work 10-12 hour days to make sure every "i" was dotted and every "t" was crossed. It was a big deal and my first big responsibility as a location manager and I meant to do my absolute best. I was an idiot, and I am lucky I didn't kill me and Cooper both in the process! The Lord definitely had his hand on me during that time. I can clearly remember getting into my car to drive that hour home with my feet so swollen I would have to take my shoes off and I could barely feel the pedals because the bottoms of my feet would be numb!

I just knew I was having a girl! I had this crazy idea that I would name her Cloe (Chloe without the h-I said it was crazy!) so that her and Cole's names would have the same letters. I was so sure it was a girl that while in the Tommy Hilfiger outlet in Pigeon Forge one day,  I picked out her outfit to go home from the hospital in, complete with matching bib, booties and blanket! It was pink and adorable. Scott made me put it back. He never doubted for a minute it would be anything but another boy. Cole too had decided it was a boy. A boy whose name would be Enoch! That's right, Enoch from the Bible. Cole was attending Gateway Christian School at the time and that is who they were studying. He was so adamant about it that I was afraid no matter what we named this child, girl or boy, it would be called Enoch.

On the 29th of April, Scott and I went to find out the sex of our baby. I took my Big Book of Baby Names and searched for the perfect girl's name (there was no need to look at boys names, I was sure!) I anxiously waited for my name to be called for the ultrasound. I practically jumped on the table. I could not wait to prove Scott wrong! The ultrasound tech started bantering back and forth with us as she squirted jelly on my belly and started taking measurements. "Get on with it!" I was thinking. "You do want to know what it is?" she asked. Yes, yes, yes! I can't remember if she asked us what we wanted it to be or if we just told her, but when she looked at Scott, I knew...it was a boy. I would be a big liar if I told you I was not disappointed. I knew this was likely the last child I would have and I wanted a little girl so badly. Scott was thrilled, and after about 5 minutes, I was too. After all, I did know a thing or two about taking care of boys. I knew Cole would be happy. As soon as we got in the car I pulled that Big Book of Baby names back out. The middle name was a no brainer: Cole's first name is James after Scott whose whole name is James Scott. This baby would also be named after his daddy; Scott would be his middle name. I liked the name Riley, but Scott vetoed that one. So, I went to the A's and started calling out names randomly. When I got to the C's and called out Cooper, Scott liked that one. He had worked with a guy a few years back who had a son named Cooper and had liked it then. Cooper Scott sounded good to us both. Cooper Scott he would be.

After the inspection in June, I finally consented to cut back my hours at work. First to 4 days a week and then to half days. I was intermittently put on bed rest when the pressures got dangerously high. Medicines would be increased or added, the pressures would come down a bit, then back to work I would go. I was trying to work as long as I possibly could. I knew I would be off for at least 6 weeks after the baby was born. I didn't want to inconvenience other managers any longer than absolutely necessary, as they were having to take care of all the managerial duties at my location as well as their own while I was out. Cooper's official due date was September 19, 2004. My doctor was determined to get me to at least 38 weeks and then induce. I had six ultrasounds during my pregnancy. The last ultrasound showed a decrease in amniotic fluid, which would be one of the factors that led to my labor being induced 6 weeks early. But in every ultrasound Cooper seemed completely normal and completely healthy. We had no reason to believe anything was wrong with our little guy.

On August 5th, I went in to my doctor's office for a blood pressure check. While I was there they put me on a monitor and found that I was contracting at a pretty regular rate, 5 to 6 minutes apart. I was 33 weeks pregnant. My doctor was off that day, so the doctor on call sent me over to labor and delivery.  The plan was to give me some brethine, monitor me until the contractions stopped and then send me home. This was totally unexpected, but I had been through things like this when I was pregnant with Cole. I figured I would be there 2, 3 hours tops and then go home. Unfortunately, things went from bad to worse. I would not be going home again for 10 long days. And when I did go home I would be accompanied by a very tiny, very premature newborn. Ready or not, we were about to have this baby!!

Life with Cooper-Part 1: The sovereignty of God

Cooper's story really begins several years before he was much more than a hope in my heart. After having Cole in December of 1996, I knew that I wanted to have more children. I was 22 when he was born and just assumed that Scott and I would eventually have one or two more kids. Life went on. We commenced to raising a rambunctious, rotten, beautiful little boy (who we absolutely adored!) and did what all young couples do: worked hard toward the life that we wanted. While I was making my little human plans for the future, God was preparing me for what was to come: the future he had set before me.

The sovereignty of God is an amazing, mind boggling, hard to understand power that, I believe, is present on this earth and in the life of each and every one of us. There are many things that I look back on during the 8 year period between Cole's birth and Cooper's arrival that point to that force in my life. Two things stand out in my mind that, at the time, seemed like ordinary events, but now are oh so obviously the supernatural workings of my Heavenly Father on my behalf.

The first one is so hard to believe...well, you'll see. After graduating from high school with the equivalent of a C+ GPA (That is a fact that bothers me to this day- I never applied myself. I would love to travel back in time and shake some sense into my teenage self! But, I digress...) and no chance for scholarships or grants, further education was not an option for me. This left two choices for work for kids like myself in our area: restaurants or textile factories. I worked my share of both, eventually settling into a position as a sewing machine operator at a t-shirt factory. My job was "set collar". Yep, I sewed collars onto t-shirts. After Cole was born, I moved to second shift where I ran a machine that sewed the sleeves on the shirts (a move up! I was so proud!-wink). So, there I was: A happy young wife and mother who was really, really unhappy with her job.

My greatest desire at the time was to somehow work my way into an office position. ( I had taken a 1 year course in secretarial/office work through Walter State in 1993-94, but didn't have much luck finding anything in that field-so back to the factories I went) Then, rumors started to circulate that their was a possibility the factory where I worked might be closing. Sure enough, first second shift and eventually the entire plant was shut down due to the NAFTA law. This law opened up trade between  US, Canada and Mexico. Much of the textile production in the US was shifted to these other countries due to the manufacturing cost being much less there. A NAFTA-Transitional Adjustment Assistance Program was established to assist workers who lost their jobs as a result of the NAFTA law. Through this program, affected workers were to be retrained and/or reemployed. The guidelines were very rigid: I had a certain amount of time to benefit from this retraining and, if I chose to go back to school (which was one of several options), I had to enroll in a program that did not exceed 2 calendar years. Basically, my choices were limited to the medical field. I had absolutely NO interest in the medical field! If I had went to college, my one and only choice would have been teaching. But, this was an opportunity that I did not want to pass me by.

I chose respiratory therapy for no other reason than I didn't want to be a nurse and a girl I had grown up with had just completed the program and recommended it to me. I completed the program in 1999 and, with the help of a Pell grant, (I did much better in school this time, maintaining a 4.0 GPA) graduated in 2000 from Southeast Community College with an associates of applied science degree! I went to work at a hospital and later went into home care. The medical knowledge I gained through my education and subsequent work in patient care has been invaluable to me as Cooper's parent, caretaker, advocate and voice dealing with the medical professionals who have been involved with his case over the years. Only God could have orchestrated all that! That I would be in a position-at that specific time-to benefit from that random law...you can't tell me that was anything other than a miracle! An ordinary, everyday miracle? Maybe. But a miracle just the same, and one I thank God for every. single. day.

The second one happened when Cole was 3 or 4. Three times during that year I was given the opportunity to hear the testimony of a lady from our church named Brenda Robbins. Brenda's story is hers to tell, (it's an A-Mazing story. If you ever get the opportunity to hear it, you will never forget it!) but the part that impacted me the most was the fact that Brenda had raised, not one, but two severely handicapped sons to adulthood. One of her boys had went home to be with the Lord shortly before, and the other one is still with her to this very day. These boys were completely dependent on Brenda for their total care. As their bodies grew, their cognitive function remained that of an infant. I was totally blown away by her story, but more so by the joy she exhibited. This woman was happy! She had such faith! Such peace! I just could not understand it. To hear the complete telling of her life was to hear that she had experienced a lot of tragedy and loss in addition to the circumstances with her two boys. And yet, here she stood: this beautiful, Godly woman testifying to how much she loved the Lord. Praising Him for the strength He gave her daily to care for her children. I remember thinking to myself with tears streaming down my face and a lump in my throat so big I could barely swallow, "How can she not be angry with God? How can she still love Him after all the pain, disappointment and difficulty she has experienced? I could never live through what she has lived through and feel that way!" Little did I know that God would bring her story back to my mind time and time again. On my most difficult days, during the darkest hours of the longest nights, he would remind me. It was as if he were whispering right into my spirit, "I was with her every minute of every day. I still am. I will be with you too." And He has been faithful to do just that.

So you see, this journey started for me long before I knew I was on it. But God knew. And He was guiding and preparing me every step of the way.

Life with my beautiful boy

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Meet my Cooper. Over the next few weeks I will be telling his story from the beginning. My prayer is to encourage other families who are on the same or similar journey as we are. Being the parent and caretakers of a special needs child certainly presents a set of unique challenges, but it also provides you with a unique set of blessings as well. 

I am new to the blogger world, so this will be trial and error. If you are reading this, then I have done something right. So, hear goes nothing!