"But now I'm six, I'm clever as clever
So I think I'll be six for ever and ever."
A. A. Milne
Six years ago I gave birth to two sons. I remember Zachary every year on Jared's birthday because, well, frankly, it was also Zachary's birthday. He died on August 8th, 7 hrs after he was born.
August 7th is always a bittersweet day for me. Each year I think of what I went through to keep my boys alive and how they were born 12 weeks to soon. I think of how I cried and cried as they told me Zachary had passed and how I remained strong and optimistic during the 6 months Jared was in the NICU.
I think back to my days of being a first time Mom and how I had to suction my child's trach out and cart around oxygen and a ventilator every time I left the house. I think of Oldest' early days; struggling just to breathe comfortably.
Yes, each year I look back at the previous year and marvel how far my 28 week, vent dependent child, has come.
He is six. He is handsome, strong and sweet. He has overcome more obstacles in his six years than most adults have in a lifetime. He attends weekly therapies consisting of feeding, speech and occupational therapy--he goes with a smile each and every time (well, almost). He loves his brother, amusement parks and building things. He takes after his father in observing the minuscule details that you or I may overlook.
He is delayed yet I remind myself whenever I stop and compare him to other six year old children that they didn't have the beginning that he had. I remind myself that he is a true miracle in every sense of the word.
I think back to my weeks before I had the boys. I think back to when the fellow resident at the time brought up the option of aborting my pregnancy. I didn't hesitate to answer him. It wasn't an option for me. I went through so much to conceive these babies that I was not going to short change them in a chance at a life. The doctors warned me they may not survive. They told me that Zachary had lost so much fluid in utero that he may not make it. They asked me if I was willing to continue my pregnancy knowing that only one may survive.
I look at my Oldest as I type this, watching him observe my every move, admiring his long eyelashes, gorgeous eyes and loving smile...
I was absolutely willing to continue my pregnancy knowing only one may survive. I never regret my decision..not one day.
I always remember that he was a twin. I never ever forget that I gave birth to two boys. I will always remember Zachary on this day..and every day.
But I am eternally grateful that Oldest is here with me. With his family. Where he belongs.
Happy Birthday my dearest son.
So I think I'll be six for ever and ever."
A. A. Milne
Six years ago I gave birth to two sons. I remember Zachary every year on Jared's birthday because, well, frankly, it was also Zachary's birthday. He died on August 8th, 7 hrs after he was born.
August 7th is always a bittersweet day for me. Each year I think of what I went through to keep my boys alive and how they were born 12 weeks to soon. I think of how I cried and cried as they told me Zachary had passed and how I remained strong and optimistic during the 6 months Jared was in the NICU.
I think back to my days of being a first time Mom and how I had to suction my child's trach out and cart around oxygen and a ventilator every time I left the house. I think of Oldest' early days; struggling just to breathe comfortably.
Yes, each year I look back at the previous year and marvel how far my 28 week, vent dependent child, has come.
He is six. He is handsome, strong and sweet. He has overcome more obstacles in his six years than most adults have in a lifetime. He attends weekly therapies consisting of feeding, speech and occupational therapy--he goes with a smile each and every time (well, almost). He loves his brother, amusement parks and building things. He takes after his father in observing the minuscule details that you or I may overlook.
He is delayed yet I remind myself whenever I stop and compare him to other six year old children that they didn't have the beginning that he had. I remind myself that he is a true miracle in every sense of the word.
I think back to my weeks before I had the boys. I think back to when the fellow resident at the time brought up the option of aborting my pregnancy. I didn't hesitate to answer him. It wasn't an option for me. I went through so much to conceive these babies that I was not going to short change them in a chance at a life. The doctors warned me they may not survive. They told me that Zachary had lost so much fluid in utero that he may not make it. They asked me if I was willing to continue my pregnancy knowing that only one may survive.
I look at my Oldest as I type this, watching him observe my every move, admiring his long eyelashes, gorgeous eyes and loving smile...
I was absolutely willing to continue my pregnancy knowing only one may survive. I never regret my decision..not one day.
I always remember that he was a twin. I never ever forget that I gave birth to two boys. I will always remember Zachary on this day..and every day.
But I am eternally grateful that Oldest is here with me. With his family. Where he belongs.
Happy Birthday my dearest son.
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