Today I’m participating in the Ultimate Blog Swap. You’ll find me posting over at Dried on Milk posting on Summer Survival, and I’m excited to welcome JessieLeigh from Parenting Miracles to The Confident Mom. I know you will be touched with her story.
“Please God… please God… please God.”
Over and over, I repeated those two words as I watched the overhead lights flash by. On my back, on my own, lost and wondering how- HOW– this could possibly be God’s plan. A baby, so cherished, so wanted, coming so early… too early. All the statistics delivered in somber serious tones made fear run cold in my veins.
Yet, still, I knew I was blessed to even be there… so lucky that I would have the opportunity to see and know my precious, already beloved child.
“One pound five ounces.” “It’s a girl.” “Dad, are you coming with us?”
And I was off and riding on the roller coaster you simply must expect when you give birth to a baby at only 24 weeks gestation.
Over the next months, I would be challenged over and over again.
I was not allowed to hold that precious new daughter for many, many weeks. A massive surgery left me unable to hold my firstborn child, still a baby himself, either. I stood by my newborn’s bedside on the day they said she probably wouldn’t make it. I traveled to Chicago to meet a top-notch retinal surgeon who was our last chance to help her avoid blindness.
And my marriage, oh my poor marriage, took such a beating. So emotionally and physically drained, our whole family living in one tiny room, we simply had nothing left to give one another.
But I also remember the family suppers we shared every single night together- how hard we worked to maintain that normalcy for our son.
I remember holding hands as we drank strong coffee and waited for word from the surgeon.
I remember the crocuses that bloomed so early that year, opening sunny faces on a warm Valentine’s Day.
I remember quiet moments of prayer as I sat, just me and a pump, by my sleeping son’s crib in the wee hours of the morning.
I remember praying for other babies, alongside other parents, from all walks of life and varied religions.
I remember learning how much stronger we all were when we simply stood together.
When we loved.
And I remember the day when I saw exactly how my inelegant, simple “Please, God” prayer was to be answered… the day when a doctor first uttered the sentence, “We need to talk about going home” to me.
I went home with my precious miracle of a baby.
And I stared in awe at God’s plan.
JessieLeigh is the mother of a 24-weeker and a determined advocate for the tiniest of babies. She can be found blogging at ParentingMiracles.net about celebrating life’s (sometimes unexpected) miracles and blessings.
