Hindsight

My son spent all of yesterday entertaining me with his newest trick- the fake cough. Along with blowing bubbles, yelling and sitting up. All things he's learned here recently. Grandma came over for our walk and he was all smiles; a perfect angel. It was one of those great days when being a mom is easy and you start thinking maybe you'll actually survive. All of his preemie issues a distant memory. Did we dream it all? Were we ever actually concerned? Certainly not. He's a strapping young boy starting to learn his world. Then something happens that makes you remember. Makes you shiver in fear of the "might haves". I am a member of a preemie group. For the most part it's a bunch of ladies with kids just like Gideon and we share our fears and concerns and milestones and achievements. It's a great group and it's neat keeping up with each others kids. Then there are the ones that don't make it. The ones that pass in the night and you open your email to a tearful post written by a distraught mom about the passing of her angel. An angry post about how God could do something like this. A desperate post asking how they're supposed to move on. It's heart wrenching to say the least. Yesterday we received word that one of our own, Kayleigh, was in some serious trouble. She was born 3 months early (just 4 weeks earlier than Gideon) weighing 1 pound, she's had all sorts of issues, although all fixable. A few days ago, she went into surgery for something routine (hospital-eze, don't remember the word) and came out brain dead. This perfect 9 month miracle who had started grabbing at toys, chewing on fingers and smiling (all things my boy does now) didn't wake up from surgery. The doctors are still scratching their heads about why. What struck me was that these parents were much like Noah and I. Going into the birth, they had no idea what was happening. They didn't know the ramifications of having a preemie, it was all learn as you go. Looking back, I am so humbled at what we have been through. Very few bumps in the road. Especially after reading up on everything that could go wrong. If I had known September 10th what I know now, I doubt I'd be able to make it. Cluelessness was definitely what held us together. Along with a lot of faith. Each day I am struck at how blessed I am to be a mom to this wonderful person. I get misty when I think of the things we'll share together. When I think of the man he'll one day become. For the most part I look forward. First birthdays, going to the orchard for the first time, first day of school. But every so often, something happens that yanks me back to that hospital those first few nights when everything was touch and go, and I am so very thankful to have made it out ok. I think these are good lessons learned. I think God wants us to never forget what we have been through and give Him the glory for bringing us out of the fire. And never take a single day for granted, even the rough ones spent with an angry child and worn out mother. As I write this, Gideon is napping peacefully in his crib. We have a day's worth of adventures planned and I didn't think twice today about heading out to tackle them. What a true blessing that is. Tonight before we go to bed, we'll say a prayer for our friend Kayleigh, and pray that if she is resting in her Father's arms, He will also comfort her mother and father here.