One month ago today, early in the morning, I told my Dr., "It's miracle day!" And then he prayed with me. Twenty minutes later I heard baby Levi's precious cry. I was so grateful. Tears streamed as I waited to hold him.
I was overwhelmed when I did hold him, amazed that our miracle was here, and that he was ok. I couldn't believe that I was holding him in our hospital room, that this was real. But within minutes they took him a few feet from us, to monitor his breathing. I soon heard, "This is not good enough for him to stay here." And those dreams of holding my baby and watching him all day on the day of his birth were gone. I became a visitor in the hospital, who happened to also be a patient. I had to be wheeled down the hallway to see my son, and our lives became ones of anxiously watching the monitors that were connected to his tiny body.
Two days later we were visiting him in the special care nursery and were told that they'd found through x-ray that he had a small hole in his lung - that part of it had collapsed. "Collapsed" is such an ugly and scary word. They said they wanted to transfer him to OSF in Peoria so that if he needed a procedure he would already be there, versus moving him when he was not as stable. We quickly found ourselves in a whirlwind of packing, making phone calls, and doing all the little things that we had to do in order for me to be discharged a day early. The OSF team arrived and prepped Levi to be transferred by ambulance in an incubator. He looked so peaceful.
I am so grateful for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at OSF. It is obvious that they are experts, and they do a wonderful job communicating with each other and with patients' parents. We were thanking God for such a solid place so close to home. After four days that felt like two weeks (don't underestimate the blessing of your own bed and shower!) we were told that we could take our precious Levi home. The hole had sealed up on its own, and after multiple days of questioning it, his numbers stayed stable when eating or upset.
And then came the time at home. This is when I experienced once again the full realization that I am not a perfect mom, and being a mom can be very difficult. I'm not going to pretend that life has been nothing but cuddles, or that I've had a lot of time to watch the Olympics or make nice meals, or shower every day, or respond to texts and emails the same day I receive them, or post cute pictures on Facebook. It's been about survival, but I am feeling more like a human now. Levi is such a good baby. His grandmas say he is perfect. He rarely cries without a reason that is easily fixable. I am aware how fortunate we are, and so grateful. I have no idea how I'd cope with taking care of Silas and a fussy baby.
Hats off to those of you who can manage to do the above! Just being honest that I can't. In fact, it took me pieces of four different days to even write this blog post. When I told my cousin what I was writing she quickly responded, "I'm so thankful Jesus was perfect in our place and I don't have to be." Wise words.
Crazy hair on a non-shower day
I have shed a lot of tears. Tears from pain and soreness, of being overwhelmed with the daunting task of breastfeeding through complications, and of taking care of a newborn and active three year old while adjusting to extreme lack of sleep. But sometimes my tears are of pure joy! I look at Levi and I still can't believe he is here. I tell him he's a miracle and that we prayed for him long before he existed. I cry because I am so thankful for our family of four. It hits me hard and deep. I am so very blessed. He is worth all the surgeries and pain, all the tears, wondering, and questioning God. He is here, and he is exactly who God intended for us. And we love him to pieces!
I love watching his tiny fingers wrap around one of mine. I love holding him up and leaning my face against his and listening to him breathe. I love watching him pass gas and then smile about it. I love watching him calm down as a result of Silas shaking a rattle in front of his face. I love watching him gaze at Micah as he's being held in his daddy's arms. I love watching him yawn, and scrunch up his forehead. I love watching the hungry face...
turn into the content face.
My precious sons. Each got here in a special way. Neither way was typical - both had their struggles. Even more reason to appreciate and enjoy them.
You could say this family picture looks lovely but I'll keep the "realness" going and give you some behind the scenes info. Silas was experiencing some jealousy of his little brother and it manifested itself by him repeatedly leaving the picture scene. This shot was captured through both of my sister's efforts - one encouraging while she pointed the camera, and the other waving candy next to the camera, as a reward for him sitting and smiling! Yep.
"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him."
1 Samuel 1:27
