Thirteen years ago, this precious little package arrived weighing about the same as a loaf of bread. Who knew what to expect? He seems to be attempting a smile here, decked out in a crocheted hat to maintain his body temperature, a feeding tube which allowed him nourishment since his stomach wasn't ready to handle real food, and, of course, his breathing tube that connected him to the ventilator because his little lungs weren't quite ready to breathe on their own 100% of the time. Bradycardia was a term I quickly learned!
So we held our breath for 17 weeks and learned the real meaning of "one step forward, two steps back." My house phone (the only phone we had at the time)was on speed dial to the Kennestone NICU, and the nurses knew my voice as soon as they picked up. We held our breath and waited for little bits of progress, little bits of hope, all the while reminded by those wise folks not to get too excited-- the road ahead was still a long one.
But that road ended, thankfully, and they let us take him home. So we began a journey down another road, which meant we were in charge! No more nurses watching his vital signs, bathing his tiny body, or starting him breathing again when, while sucking and swallowing his bottle, he forgot to breathe! But we learned and so did he. He grew and so did we, in confidence, faith, and so much more.
And he grew, and grew, and grew some more into a teenager today who makes me so proud I can't put it into words. Thirteen years ago a very kind doctor gave me some statistics about babies who are born 15 weeks too early. He wanted to prepare me for whatever challenges or obstacles Tanner might face. I still have the sheet of paper where I frantically jotted down whatever my mind could take in at the time. I was ready for anything-- I just wanted to be able to take him home from the hospital. I knew we could handle whatever God threw at us, statistics and all.
This is what He threw our way:
I'm so proud of this boy sometimes I think my heart will burst. He makes good grades, loves his sports, hangs around with some awesome friends, babysits like a champ. This fragile preemie i couldn't believe they let me bring home with an oxygen machine, an O2 monitor, and a heart rate monitor plays linebacker! He fishes and rides bikes, and spends the night at friends' houses. He never looks back.
I guess that's what you learn when you spend 17 weeks staring out the windows of a hospital room. Life is precious. Life is fun. Life is meant to be enjoyed and laughed at and lived full force. It may have taken him almost four and a half months, but once he made it out he's made every minute matter. That's what he's taught me.
Life is a gift, and I'm so glad God gave me you!
