Price is Right

7 years ago, my mom was out to visit me in California.

We decided it was about time for us to go on The Price is Right and win a car.

Or $10,000 playing PLINKO.

Either way.

Josh's best friend had made it on the show a year prior, and won a sweet dining room table and scooter.

In order to get into the audience, you have to arrive around 7 am to receive a number. Once you have a spot, you can go back later in the day to wait in line and wind your way into the studio.

As we lived 3 hours away in rush hour morning traffic, a seedy motel in the worst part of town was booked (for the night before) so we could eliminate the morning drive.

Bright and early, we rushed to get our spot.

We then waited.

and waited.

and waited.

It took all day in line to be a part of the audience.

Various personalities were encountered. From the crazy to the mundane, we caught it all sitting in that line.

Come mid-afternoon, prospective contestants are interviewed to see who will make it onto the famous row.

Groups of five stand in firing squat formation before the production assistant. He asks each person a few simple questions. Once finished, the page boy issues a name tag and ushers you to your seat to await their decision.

My mom and I had high hopes all day of running down the aisle with arms waiving.

Perhaps even jumping up and down before kissing Bob Barker.

Truthfully, taping a show in real life is a lot like watching it on TV. It pretty much runs actual time, unless something goes wrong.

Anxiously awaiting the results of who would be chosen, my mom and I heard the announcer start reeling off names.

We saw the guy from the group ahead of us jump up as his name was called.

Saw the girl two lines behind of us make her way down the aisle.

The strangest thing happened as Rod Roddy's voice boomed in my ear.

I was deathly afraid of being called.

All the sudden, I did not want to be in front of the cameras and the crew and the audience.

The safety of my seat was just fine.

We didn't get on the show, by the way.

I spent the better part of ten weeks wishing we were home.

Biding my time until Tessa got bigger, stronger.

The last two days have been discouraging.

Tessa has had multiple times that I have been feeding her, and all the sudden she refluxes and cannot catch up with her breathing. Turns blue for quite a while. Probably not as long as it seems to me, but long enough that it is disturbing.

Today, I was sitting in her room, feeding her and the rounding doctor came in.

He asked me how she was doing.

I said, "Well, we are getting there."

He said, "Ready to go Home?" which I took figuratively....like, are you sick of it, yet?

I smiled and said yes.

"Okay, tomorrow then", he said.

A whirlwind of meetings, paperwork, monitor instruction, tests, car seat checks, and general madness ensued.

....and we still don't have a bed set up.

Tomorrow we are due to go get Tessa.

Now that it is actually here, I am terrified.

What if I miss something? What if I feed her wrong? What if she turns blue at home and I cannot get her to breath? What if she gets sick? She is so tiny and doesn't have the same immune system that my boys did.

My safety net of doctors and nurses and [easily accessible] oxygen is being removed, and that is hard for me.

Tonight, I have to stop and remember that my true safety net is still in place.

God is still here, still holding my hand, still holding Tessa's life in His grasp.

I go back again and again to the verse engraved on my Julian and Co. necklace- the first thing that I received with Baby Bird's name on it:

10 So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.