As we approach August 7th I am always brought back in time.
A time when I was pregnant with two baby boys .
Two babies who kicked in utero for 28 weeks.
And one baby survived.
My baby is now turning 16 and I do not take a day of his existence for granted.
Okay.
I mean, I do get annoyed with him at times but he's a teenager so; par for the course.
But truly, this kid is my miracle.
I always knew how fragile he was after birth.
I didn't need an MD after my name to realize his life was going to be a tough one in the beginning.
The tubes and wires kind of gave that away.
What I didn't realize
What I didn't know
Until much later
Is that my son almost died.
He was a sick baby.
A very sick baby.
The NICU mantra is "one step forward, two steps back" and we lived that dance move for a very long time.
He was constantly faced with obstacles such as collapsed lungs and being unable to make it off a ventilator (which challenged us to living 19 months on one)
(And yes, I realize I say us because I can assure you I lived every second of that ventilator life with that kid -living with one eye open at all times)
At 3 months of age, oldest moved from one NICU to another because the first wasn't equipped to deal with a baby with a tracheostomy.
He got very sick after his trach was placed.
I knew this.
I knew how sick he was because they put him in an isolation room and "paralyzed" his body to keep him from moving ( not wanting to cause his body to work any harder than he needed to)
I knew how sick he was because he had to go back on a ventilator that was intended for the "really sick babies".
(The vent that he was on at birth and worked so hard to get off of).
(The vent that shook your body like he was constantly on vibrating mode)
I spent my anniversary in that isolation room watching him; not move, knowing he was really really sick.
(Apparently not knowing he was close to death)
Months later, when he was home and safe in my arms, I had a conversation with one of his former staff (Who we adored)
In casual conversation she said something about how great he was doing and how she couldn't believe he almost died.
"Yea, I know" I said. Not processing what she had just said.
"Wait. What? " I said. After taking a minute to hear the words and understand them.
She meant no ill will. She assumed I knew. Assumed I realized.
"You know he was really sick" "You know we weren't sure he would turn a corner"
I guess I knew.
I mean, of course I knew.
I guess I never believed it would happen.
From the moment that kid was born he was defying odds.
I figured he lived through the really worst at the beginning that there was no way my baby was leaving me later.
That baby boy is turning 16.
He still has beautiful eyes, a smile to warm your heart and a heart to warm your smile.
He has defied odds time and time again.
He walked and talked late.
He had speech and eating issues and doctors appointments and therapy appointments for a good portion of his childhood.
While Mom's were at mommy and me classes we were isolated at home for flu and RSV season.
While Mom's were strolling the malls and playgrounds, we were home doing physical and occupational therapy.
While Mom's were worried about transitioning to a toddler bed, I was worried about transitioning off a ventilator.
While Mom's were at little league games, we were playing catch up.
I'm not writing for you to have pity.
I'm writing because I am so damn proud of where my kid has ended up.
Damn proud of the kind hearted, soft spoken, love of a kid that he has turned into.
And although every August 7th is a reminder that I lost another son...
a reminder that my oldest is supposed to have a twin growing up beside of him..
It's another year around the sun that is my reminder that my miracle kid is truly that
a miracle.
A time when I was pregnant with two baby boys .
Two babies who kicked in utero for 28 weeks.
And one baby survived.
My baby is now turning 16 and I do not take a day of his existence for granted.
Okay.
I mean, I do get annoyed with him at times but he's a teenager so; par for the course.
But truly, this kid is my miracle.
I always knew how fragile he was after birth.
I didn't need an MD after my name to realize his life was going to be a tough one in the beginning.
The tubes and wires kind of gave that away.
What I didn't realize
What I didn't know
Until much later
Is that my son almost died.
He was a sick baby.
A very sick baby.
The NICU mantra is "one step forward, two steps back" and we lived that dance move for a very long time.
He was constantly faced with obstacles such as collapsed lungs and being unable to make it off a ventilator (which challenged us to living 19 months on one)
(And yes, I realize I say us because I can assure you I lived every second of that ventilator life with that kid -living with one eye open at all times)
At 3 months of age, oldest moved from one NICU to another because the first wasn't equipped to deal with a baby with a tracheostomy.
He got very sick after his trach was placed.
I knew this.
I knew how sick he was because they put him in an isolation room and "paralyzed" his body to keep him from moving ( not wanting to cause his body to work any harder than he needed to)
I knew how sick he was because he had to go back on a ventilator that was intended for the "really sick babies".
(The vent that he was on at birth and worked so hard to get off of).
(The vent that shook your body like he was constantly on vibrating mode)
I spent my anniversary in that isolation room watching him; not move, knowing he was really really sick.
(Apparently not knowing he was close to death)
Months later, when he was home and safe in my arms, I had a conversation with one of his former staff (Who we adored)
In casual conversation she said something about how great he was doing and how she couldn't believe he almost died.
"Yea, I know" I said. Not processing what she had just said.
"Wait. What? " I said. After taking a minute to hear the words and understand them.
She meant no ill will. She assumed I knew. Assumed I realized.
"You know he was really sick" "You know we weren't sure he would turn a corner"
I guess I knew.
I mean, of course I knew.
I guess I never believed it would happen.
From the moment that kid was born he was defying odds.
I figured he lived through the really worst at the beginning that there was no way my baby was leaving me later.
That baby boy is turning 16.
He still has beautiful eyes, a smile to warm your heart and a heart to warm your smile.
He has defied odds time and time again.
He walked and talked late.
He had speech and eating issues and doctors appointments and therapy appointments for a good portion of his childhood.
While Mom's were at mommy and me classes we were isolated at home for flu and RSV season.
While Mom's were strolling the malls and playgrounds, we were home doing physical and occupational therapy.
While Mom's were worried about transitioning to a toddler bed, I was worried about transitioning off a ventilator.
While Mom's were at little league games, we were playing catch up.
I'm not writing for you to have pity.
I'm writing because I am so damn proud of where my kid has ended up.
Damn proud of the kind hearted, soft spoken, love of a kid that he has turned into.
And although every August 7th is a reminder that I lost another son...
a reminder that my oldest is supposed to have a twin growing up beside of him..
It's another year around the sun that is my reminder that my miracle kid is truly that
a miracle.
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