Last week, I took Lily to see Dr. V. He is a genetics doctor at Primary Children's Hospital and last treated Lily when she was nine-days-old. When we arrived at his office, Dr. V said that he remembered Lily as an infant. He said that he remembered her mainly because he was so baffled by her. She had every reason to breathe on her own, yet she wouldn't. Dr. V said that he remembered reviewing all the tests that she underwent during her hospital stay. He said that he couldn't understand why everything about her seemed so normal, but she wasn't acting normal. Dr. V has stayed in close contact with Lily's neurologist and only recently requested that we pay a visit to his office so that he could see how she was progressing and if we could find out any answers regarding her condition.
Honestly, even after a thorough exam and a discussion about mine and Martin's family (to see if anything could have been passed on to Lily genetically), Dr. V still did not have any answers. In spite of not determining a diagnosis, we were still able to talk about all of my hunches in my own research. He was very patient with me as I discussed different syndromes and symptoms.
When I finished talking, Dr. V went through his book of different syndromes with me, and we discussed each one of my hunches in length. At one point in our search, he pulled up a picture of a particular syndrome where the characteristics showed patients with perfectly arched eyebrows and distinct almond-shaped eyes. I didn't see any comparison but Dr. V held the book up and said, "Are her eyebrows and eyes hereditary, or do you think she resembles this syndrome?" Then he turned to me and, with a slight grin, said, "Or is it that she is simply beautiful?" I think he did all this "searching for syndromes" just to appease me and to help me to see that Lily doesn't fall into any one syndrome. She is unique. I guess I really didn't need anyone to tell me that.
In the end, Dr. V felt concerned enough about Lily (and still baffled) that he ordered another MRI. He wanted to review a few more things that a more matured brain might show us now, that may not have shown up the last two times we did an MRI. When Lily was much younger.
Our discussion eventually wound down, and I thanked Dr. V for taking such a long period of time out of his day for us. Then I gathered my things to leave. As I was about to push Lily out the door, Dr. V stopped me and said the most tender thing. He said, "I'm sorry that I don't have any answers for you today, but what I can tell you is that she is a wonderful reminder of what heaven must be like. She is such a sweet child." Being the proud mother that I am, I teared up a bit, nodded in agreement and pushed my little reminder of heaven and her wheelchair out of his office.
Since that visit, Dr. V's comment has filled my mind these past few days. He was right. We may never have an answer (which is hard for me) but one thing that is certain, Lily is heavenly—she is a little angel.
My faith teaches of a probationary life, meaning this life. Our mortal life on earth. This is where we come to receive a body and to learn how to follow God's plan so that we, and our families, can return to live with Him. It really is that simple. It is this life, and how we live it, that makes all the difference for the next. For Martin and me, we have an advantage because Lily reminds us daily of what is most important, because she is what is most important to us and we want to have her forever.
Because of Lily, Martin and I are reminded to pray, because we always want to pray for her well-being. Lily reminds us daily to be kind to others because we want others to always be kind to her. Lily reminds us to be patient because she needs others to be patient with her. Lily reminds us about what love really means. The Savior taught in the scriptures that we should "love one another." Loving others is one way to feel His presence in our daily lives. Because of Lily, Martin and I are reminded of the unconditional love that the Savior has for us because that is the kind of love that we have for Lily.
As human beings we are imperfect, but we can be made perfect through Christ and His sacrifice. Christ is my example. Lily is my daily reminder. Because of Lily, I pray more often, I have more compassion for those who are suffering, and I have more love for others in spite of our differences. I really mean that. A glance at Lily is all I need to be reminded that life is pretty wonderful.
Dr. V couldn't have been more right in telling me what he was really thinking about Lily that day. I am so grateful that he shared his thoughts with me. He is right. Although there may never be a diagnosis for my little girl, she really is the closest thing that I have to see what heaven is like. And the view is spectacular!
