Plan B.

When we received the call from the operating room during Evan’s open heart surgery, I braced myself for the news.

Would the surgeon proceed with a full repair for our boy?

Or would he have to resort to Plan B.  The plan that would give him a very special heart.  A heart that isn’t normal but would optimally work for the intricate anatomy my boy has.

And, on that day, my world came tumbling down, when I heard….”He decided to go with the 2nd option.”

I could feel my world shattering.  I knew what implications resulted from this decision.  But, what I didn’t realize…was what Plan B meant.

It feels like my life since my boy was safe in my belly has been a series of Plan B’s.

I wanted and hoped and prayed with all my might that I was carrying a healthy, baby.


Plan B.

Another path.  Another journey.

One that has tested every inch of my being.  One that has been the best of times…and the worst of times.


Our plastic surgeon gave us the “talk.”

Warning us that if he went into the operating room and didn’t feel like he could give Evan the best “face” possible in a single repair, he’d have to do a staged repair.


We’ve heard those words before.

So, today, we waited for the call.  Waiting to see if the surgeon could go in today and do a single repair…fixing my son’s beautiful face.


If Plan B. was yet again in our future.

And just like the past year of our lives….my boy has chosen the path less traveled.

Plan B.

Because of the severity of Evan’s cleft lip, doing a full repair in a single shot could have compromised the blood supply to his lip and gum line that is involved in his defect.

Today, he chose Plan B.  He did a partial repair to bring the parts of my beautiful boy’s face together and will finish the repair in the next 4-6 months when his palate is repaired.

Today, my boy’s face still stretches for miles.  Not completely whole and complete like we had hoped.

But, that’s what plan B is about.

I’m sitting in the ICU waiting room.  I’m waiting to see my boy that I last kissed 7 hours ago…when I normally kiss his face 7 times in a minute.

I’m waiting as the do and MRI of his head to check on a mystery bump that he’s had since birth. Many that have examined him haven’t had any concern, thinking it’s a nothing of a thing that could easily be removed.

God please.  Let it be just a nothing of a thing…nothing serious…nothing detrimental to my boy’s life…no more Plan B’s.

Please, God.

I feel like I’ve handled Plan B’s ok.  I feel like I’ve rolled with the punches with the best of them.

I’ve cried about our Plan B life, about our Plan B path, about our Plan B baby more times to count.

I love our Plan B life, I’m trudging and sometimes limping on our Plan B path….but I’m still just glad to be on it.

Here’s the thing with Plan B.

It just means that Plan A wasn’t in the cards.  It means that our Plan A we envisioned wasn’t the custom fit God intended.

It means we have to train our hearts to embrace that Plan B like it was our only, intended path.

If I shunned away all the Plan B stuff that has happened to my boy and our family the past 9+ months, I would have missed out on so much good along with all the heartache and pain that Plan B has given us.

I would have rather had Plan A…who wouldn’t want a healthy baby…

….or a normal heart.

…or a face that is “whole.”

I pray with all my might that we don’t have another Plan B path with the mystery bump I call Evan’s unicorn horn.

My heart doesn’t know if it can do another bump in this road (pun absolutely intended).

Like all things Evan, I just need to take things as they come.  Tackle one hurdle.  Climb yet another mountain.

Hit my knees in prayer…again and again.

My Plan B life.  Our Plan B life.

I trust and know that sometimes my Plan B may not have been the path I would have chosen…but it still the perfect, handcrafted path for my boy and our family.

It may just be God’s Plan A life for us.

And I’ll put my faith in that.

I have to.