Today is a special day, my big little man is five. FIVE! How did that happen? He has had an exciting day, lots of fun at school and presents when coming home and cake for pudding! Party with his mates tomorrow and cake with family on Sunday. He's proud to be five, waving his handful of fingers at everyone who will look, including the grandparents, via Skype.
But today is also the 5th anniversary of the worst thing that ever happened to me, and to his Daddy. 12 hours after birth we were in intensive care with a baby who kept having fits, every fit every five minutes stopping his breathing. Incubator, intubation, drugs, fears, wires, monitors, questions, no answers, confusion, and a great deal of hurt. 5 days of uncertainty about his life, weeks and months of uncertainty over his future.
It is sad that on a day that should be totally happy, there are always memories of those terrifying early days. Don't get me wrong, it's nothing like the pain of losing someone you love, and joy is very much the dominant emotion of the day, joy about having such an amazing, clever, loving and special small person in our lives. Celebration of the miracles God has done in his life. Remembering that the one thing they were sure of was blindness, followed by epilepsy and how they were wrong on both counts. Delighted to be wrong I hasten to add. And there's nothing like children to keep you living squarely in the moment.
Some people may say that I should 'move on' from it, forget about it, it's in the past and look how well he is doing now. Fact is that I have moved on, I had help to heal from the trauma experienced and so much support from loved ones. I don't have to move on any more than this. It is part of who we are as a family. Something of this magnitude shapes forever who you are an how you do things, whether you like it or not. In some ways for good: I never take the health and happiness of loved ones for granted, intensily enjoy beautiful moments, do not give a toss about money or security and rarely look further than about a year ahead. And it makes me even more proud of that little boy who has been setting himself projects to achieve from about 11 weeks old when he accidentally rolled over and became obsessed with repeating the feat. Who was called 'a very determined little boy who persists when something is challenging' by one of the experts assessing him for a statement of special educational needs.
It is quite ok to feel a touch of grief, to think that he deserved a better start and fewer challenges. A touch of grief for that lovely newborn baby time that never really was. It doesn't stop the here and now, and it only strengthens the joy. God is good, and God is faithful.
No comments:
Post a Comment