One Year Anniversary

One year ago today, our life changed drastically. It was the day we "grew up" instantly when we had to make the toughest decision of our lives.  Would we stay in the hospital for a C-section to deliver a 24 week old, 15 oz baby who would have a 40% chance of survival and 100% chance of mental retardation and/or major problems in virtually every organ system? Or would we go home and risk having a stillbirth at any moment?  Oh, and by the way, based on the markers found on ultrasound, the odds of a major choromosomal disorder were pretty close to 100%.  It was the lowest moment of my life.  I specifically remember sitting at the stoplight at the intersection of Hwy 105 and Jackson Creek Parkway. Through tears, I said to James, "For all we know, maybe in 18 years we'll be sitting at his graduation ceremony celebrating a normal high school graduate.  Or college.  Or even medical school!" I don't remember if I truly believed that or not, but I tried so hard to think of something positive, clinging to that seemingly one in a million chance of a healthy baby. 

Well, if you have seen just one other post, you've seen how much of a miracle Joshua is. We made it over six weeks on bedrest before delivering a relatively healthy 30 weeker, which is light years different from a 24 week preemie.  Over the past year, he has completely defied statistics and medical predictions.  Amazing.  Looking at him now, you'd never guess he had such a rough start. Especially since moving to Mississippi in November, he has just taken off with his growth and development.  Just like any other 8 month old, he is now Army crawling across the room and gets up on his hands and knees and rocks back and forth, ready to take off with a true crawl any day now.  And if he isn't super hungry or tired (or being smashed by his big brother), he is all smiles and laughs.

A few days ago, I went back and reread my blog. I was surprised at how much I had forgotten about those early days.  Seeing Joshua now, it's almost unbelievable how bleak his outlook was back then.  I think about how different our life would be if he had been born at 24 weeks weighing less than a pound. If he had survived, he would have many special needs requiring a drastic lifestyle change for our family. Or the other "option," stillbirth. I can't imagine a life without that little ray of sunshine. Why did God choose to spare us when so many other families have to endure so much hardship?  Our faith isn't any stronger than theirs. We aren't any better than anyone else.  We don't love Him any more than they do. Why were we spared?  It's an answer we won't know until we meet Him face to face. 

Looking back, another miracle to attribute to God is the peace He gave me while I was on bedrest. I reached a point of serenity that I had never experienced before or since.  God knew exactly what Joshua needed, and it was any extra blood flow and as little stress hormone as possible. Believe me, there have been moments, in the trenches at home all day with a baby and a toddler, when I have looked back wondering where that serenity went and how I can get it back.  When I realize it now takes me 6 weeks to finish a book, and my daily Bible reading isn't always so...daily, I wish I could have some quiet time to read and relax.  Thankfully, back than I had a hunch life would get busy again, so I savored each moment and stored up all of the relaxing I could. I bet if you average out the whole year, I still had a lot more time "relaxing" than the average person.  I love how I can look back at the hardest time in my life as a time of relaxation. It truly is how you spin it. It's easier to just look back and remember the good stuff. 

So, here we are, at the anniversary of the date that will, for us, live in infamy. Over the past year, every reference to time has been based on "pre-January 18th" and "post-January 18th." Now that a year has past, I finally feel as though I am standing back on dry land again. For most of it, especially during and right after the NICU experience (ok, maybe even during our move across the country away from our family and friends and culture we know and love), I was treading water, barely able to keep my head above the surface. Then it gradually got shallower, and the current lessened, and I can finally say with confidence, "I can handle all this now."  My feet are back underneath me after feeling like the rug was pulled out from under us so harshly. I am not quite as carefree as I once was. A more serious side of my personality has taken over.  I don't think that's a bad thing, just...different.  I have definitely found a higher level of appreciation for the importance of friends and family.  I had never personally realized how vital a role they play. Thank you all so much for getting us through this. From the tangible things like meals to the prayers and encouragement through emails and calls, and lifting us up when we felt like we were hanging from just a thread of a rope, I can't thank you enough.  I still shake my head in amazement thinking of how so many people from so many places joined together in prayer on our behalf. WOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Yesterday, Joshua got a little stuck in the Exersaucer.

Today, he discovered a new toy. I was almost as excited as he was when he figured it out.