When you’re sent home from the hospital because you think your water broke but you actually just peed yourself, it’s one thing. When you’re sent home from the hospital because you thought you had appendicitis but it was just bad gas, it’s another. The former happened to a friend, the latter happened to an ex-boyfriend. Having had three kids, I have been that girl, but I was not gonna be that guy.

When your hubby gets home from work, it’s completely normal to pop a Tums and lay down on the couch - you’re tired from a long day of mothering and you probably should have said no to that Dr. Pepper and large piece of cheese. But when you go to bed and your gas is quickly joined by nausea and back pain, something else may be going on. Enter: inflamed appendix.

When I went to bed that night, appendicitis was the furthest thing from my mind. With the nausea at a first trimester pregnancy level, I was certain I was going to vom, and wondered which one of my kids to be mad at for giving me stomach bug. The pukes never came, but my stomach and back were killing me so I started googling appendicitis just for fun. I wasn’t having the kind of pain many people were describing but certainly wasn’t comfortable, so I grabbed the heating pad and after tossing and turning, I finally fell asleep. When I woke up, the nausea had passed and I was able to stand up straight so I somewhat ignored the tenderness in my abdomen and got dressed.

**On the day you unknowingly have appendicitis, it’s a great idea to take all three of your children to the pediatrician for early morning scheduled well checks. That way, you get their shots out the way and you’re closer to the med center just in case something weird goes down. You should definitely ask the pediatrician to examine you because in your mind you are friends.**

After the pediatrician was done with the kids, I casually told her my symptoms and she quickly agreed to examine me. When she pressed on my lower right abdomen I yelled out and almost jumped off the table. She looked at me and said, you need to go the ER. Naturally, I dropped an F bomb and burst into tears. ER? The hospital? Which one?? Since I wasn’t presenting with an extreme case of appendicitis, she was concerned it was an ovary torsion so she told me to go to my OB. An ovary torsion?! Fear instantly gripped me. I could afford to lose my appendix, but I couldn’t afford to lose my ovary! Due to my monster cyst-uation, I only have one left! Tears streamed as I called my doctor, who could see me immediately. Thankfully, Grizz met us at the doctor that morning because in my gut (literally), I knew something was wrong. He rounded up the kids, which was no easy task because by this time the older two were hopped up on lollipops and touching every germ filled surface possible while the baby was super pumped about his ear infection, four shots, and being out of milk. We hurried out of the exam room, and by no chance, I saw one mom friend from church, and another dear friend in the parking lot. I asked them both to pray as Grizz loaded up the kids and scrambled for babysitters.

It was a short but impossibly long solo drive to my OB’s office as I prayed, tears running down my face, dear Lord, don’t let it be my ovary! But in His way, as I pulled into the parking lot, a powerful anthem, Look Up Child by Lauren Daigle, started playing on KSBJ.

“Even in our suffering.
Even when it can't be seen.
I know You're in control.”

I wanted to listen to the whole song but didn’t want to gamble an ovary twisting or appendix bursting so I thanked God for His quiet reassurance and half walked/half hunchback of Notre Damed my way inside. I think I walk faster and with better posture when 8 months pregnant. Amazingly, I didn’t have to wait at all for my impromptu ultrasound, and my doc saw, in his words, a beautiful, very photogenic ovary. #thecameralovesme

So if it wasn’t my ovary, (Thank you, Lord!!) that left the ol’ appendix. After a thorough examination that was not UNpainful, my doc very nonchalantly (as is his style), said, it’s very likely your appendix and it will come out today. Sit there and don’t look alarmed while I call my surgeon friend across the street. (I paraphrase.)

I went back to the waiting room as he worked out the details and found my dad waiting for me. Moments later my husband showed up and relief about my ovary and anxiety about surgery produced a fresh round of tears. Surgery! What’s the recovery? Will I be able to lift my baby? How will I care for my kids?? I tried not to cry in the waiting room because there were a few very pregnant women in there and I didn’t want them to think I’d just lost a baby, or worry about their own! It’s merely my appendix!

Breeza did not pay me to write this post. Although that would have been helpful.

We then walked over to the emergency room and I felt deja vu (and a little bit of PTSD) checking into Women’s Hospital, which is where I’ve delivered all my kids. I reminded myself I was there to lose a non essential organ, not give birth, so I relaxed and my blood pressure was normal when they took it. My bloodwork was also normal so they had me chug two tropical flavored cocktails to aid in oral iodinated contrast, and a CT scan confirmed my diagnosis: early acute appendicitis. As in any emergency situation you can’t plan for, my legs were extremely hairy but at least my toes were done as they prepped me for surgery. Outside, a thunder/hail storm raged and I hoped my kids weren’t scared and would sleep well for my inlaws.

My surgery was about as textbook as it comes, and I woke in the recovery room, dreaming of my kids. I kept hearing my 3 year old’s name - turned out the nurse tending to me has the same one! #hearteyes. I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving to God for bringing me safely through. My OB checked on me several times, and was actually present during my surgery. I’m so grateful our pediatrician sent me where someone knew me, and she even called twice to check on me as well. (Maybe we ARE friends!!! Now all I need is her cell.)

A few days after this whole ordeal, I saw a post on Pope Francis’ Instagram (he totally has an Insta) and he talked about the Providence of God, His paternal solicitude for each one of us - He does not leave us on our own. During and after surgery, God did not leave me on my own. He sent waves and waves of helping hands. My husband, family and friends stepped up in such a big way. I thought it would be impossible to not lift my baby for a week, much less two, but I will tell you, it can be done and it is kind of amazing.

Surgery and the weeks following weren’t easy, but if life was easy all the time, we’d have no need for faith. When I was discharged from the hospital that day and we pulled out of the parking lot, guess what song was on again?? Look Up Child. From start to finish, God was there. God is with us through it all. Keep looking up.

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2