Saturday we celebrated my youngest brother’s graduation from dental school.
In the midst of the fun my little man turned 4 months old. My brother and dad have been joking that he is a semester old and laughing at their wittiness. I laughed, too… But really it made me choke up a little to think this little man has his first semester of life behind him. Not really because he’s growing so fast (he is, but when you have 3 jammed in there so close together you don’t get quite so caught up in the “growing so fast” blues) but because moments like these are happening at all.
Moments that are so simple for you, a computer screen away, to see as sweet but ordinary. To me it still feels like a miracle. For me, I can’t scroll by pictures without feeling my breath catch and my eyes burn.
4 months, or one semester, ago I shared this post with you. While my dad underwent emergency triple bypass surgery I sat at home, extremely pregnant, and trying to cope with what was happening in my picture perfect life.
I couldn’t quite shake the feeling we were barely escaping disaster. We had been so unknowingly close to losing my dad. Maybe within days, or hours, or minutes. And even that day, January 6, I couldn’t breathe with fear that we were waiting for the worst. The reality was- heart surgery is serious. It’s dangerous and filled with risks despite the words doctors, nurses, and friends give you to put you at ease. The reality is we were not out of the woods yet and there was a chance I would bring my son into a world without his Grumps.
One week later, January 13, we anxiously and excitedly waited to welcome “Baby Sikes” into this world. How extreme could 1 week be? Standing at the brink of death one Friday to the beginning of life a mere 7 days later.
I’ll be honest- it was an emotionally charged week and an emotionally charged delivery. And while Sikes’heart rate dropped with my contractions and my doctor came in to discuss options because my baby was in distress, the NICU team filing in behind him, i remember thinking, “God won’t do this to me today. I need this to have a happy ending”.
The events to follow are seared into my mind but I can’t bring myself to talk about them. For an eternity (to me, but my husband says it was only minutes) I waited to hear my boy cry. And he did. And then he was in my arms and I breathed, so deeply. A week’s worth of deep breaths.
One starts smiling, the other returns to work.
One sleeps through the night, the other can pick up his grandkids again.