Jeffy, Jeffy, Jeffy

My third pregnancy was neither planned nor welcome. We found out that we were pregnant with Jeff just one short year after we'd had Andrew. Chris and I were both extremely unhappy and dissatisfied in our marriage. Another child seemed more like a punishment than a blessing.

I was in the midst of what was at the time an undiagnosed case of depression. My morning sickness hit hard, and it hit early. Alone at home often, and with two kids who seemed to love eggs above any other food, I could not keep my own food down, and with that added to my depression, I quickly started losing weight. If you know me, you know that losing weight is never a good idea. Losing weight when you have a human being inside you needing nourishment just shouts disaster.

Once our marriage hit the crisis point, my weight loss got more drastic. At just 90 pounds and in a constant state of anxiety which led to being unable to sleep I was an absolute wreck. My doctor saw me at my 8 week appointment and was shocked. She quickly put me on an antidepressant that, as I've written before, very quickly helped me in being interested in food and being able to sleep again.

I have heard people tell me that they wish they didn't have the desire to eat so that they would be able to lose weight. I've also heard doctors say that you know you're really sick when you no longer wish to eat. The second statement was very true for me. It was very scary to be unable to eat or sleep. I had seen both my father and grandfather get to that point shortly before their deaths. While my death was not imminent, the life of my tiny son's certainly was unless something drastic happened immediately. My doctor gave me several immediate goals to ensure the protection of my child's life.

Two weeks later, after a life-changing week at my dad's brother and sister-in-law's house, in which I received wonderful loving, Christ-filled attention which included lots of fresh air, attempts at rest, time to read the Word, and of course many tempting, calorie filled foods, I came back...and still weighed only 90 pounds. But my doctor was pleased that I had at least stopped losing weight. I continued to gain weight slowly, and eventually was able to sleep more than my (at the time) usual 2 hours a night.

Three weeks later, after my marital crisis reached it's lowest and most painful moment, I once again lost 10 pounds, and once again was unable to sleep. I had dear friends come and take care of me and the kids, and I struggled to keep from losing additional weight.

I don't know what would have happened had Christ not stepped in when he did. He restored my marriage, and within a few days restored my ability to eat and to sleep. I returned back to the weight I had been at the beginning of my pregnancy. One week later we went to our first ultrasound where we saw for the first time our miraculously healthy baby boy, kicking and moving normally. I had been praying specifically for our child since I'd first found out we were pregnant. I now changed my prayers to pray specifically for our little boy.

And that was Jeffy. We had initially planned on naming our first boy Jeffrey but as I wrote earlier, Dad's death automatically put that plan on hold. So this boy was to have that name. He has a few different namesakes. Jeff Wilson and Jeff Miller are where the Jeff came from. David was originally part of the name, but had more emphasis on it after my life-changing stay at Uncle David's house. And so Jeffrey David Wirick Tiner was born on my birthday. And what a wonderful gift he has been. He was and is still the tiniest of the Tiner children.

Jeff has never been a boring child. He was born with what the doctors professionally called a "HUMONGOUS" hernia. So he had his first surgery at the ripe old age of 4 months. Right before this surgery it was noted that his forehead had an unusual ridge on it. The ridge became more pronounced as he got older and then he received the official diagnosis of metopic craniosynostosis. He would need fairly extensive skull and brain surgery to correct it. And so at the riper old age of 6 months, he went back under the knife. The whole process felt excruciatingly slow during the time, but now seems to have raced by. The outpouring of prayer and love that was placed on this little boy was phenomenal.

I always tell people that it only took $60,000 of plastic surgery for Jeffy to be as handsome as he is now. But he really is a handsome boy, full of smiles and giggle, and is by far the most ticklish child I have ever met. He's still a little behind on the crawling game as he was not allowed to be on his stomach for the first 2-3 months after his surgery. However, he's way advanced in the flirt game. I'm pretty sure most of the women in my church have a big crush on him.

I have no doubt that God has big plans for this little boy. He has been through quite a bit in his short life, and death has lurked around the corner in several instances. But God is faithful, has brought him into this life with gusto and blessing. I cannot imagine our life without him. Again, I am so grateful that God knows us better than we know ourselves, and even when we think we have the best plan of "timing", he uses our doubts and fears for his glory.

Thank you Lord for our Jeffy.