I wrote in my very first post back in March that I wanted to explain why we did what we did. How could we dare to hope given the enormous odds we faced? Well, they (whoever they is) say a person is the sum total of all his experiences. That quote feels particularly relevant today, April 29, which is a day I always mark in my prone to living in the past mind.
Because if Matt and I are the sum of our experiences, then our experiences taught us that we could make miracles happen.
Back in 2010, G was born via emergency c-section nine weeks too early. At 31 weeks pregnant, I’d been having back pain and she’d all but stopped squirming. The doctor told us to come in for an appointment. One stress test and one ultrasound later, another doctor I’d never seen before threw open the door to the exam room and said, (and I may be exaggerating, but it was eight years ago!) “we have to get this baby out now or she’ll die.”
Cue panic and tears. G was delivered with a crash cart waiting beside the bassinet. The neonatal doctors whisked her away to the NICU before I’d ever heard her cry. That night, the doctor told me she was in critical condition and she may not make it through the night. The nurses said they’d never seen anything like this. More tears, more panic.
She did make it, with more than a few bumps in the road, and defied every expectation. We called her our miracle baby and on April 29th, after eight weeks of agonizing over setbacks and celebrating tiny milestones, we brought her home. (In a car stuffed with moving boxes, with a floor lamp hanging over her head, because new parents have no idea what they’re doing and who thought it was a good idea to give us a baby?!)
When things with Matt seemed impossible, when it was hard to ignore the statistics and the symptoms, and the bumps in the road felt like craters we’d never emerge from, I thought back to April 29, to how we’d been through hell once before, stumbled over bumps in the road, but still defied every expectation. And because we’d done it once, it was only reasonable to believe that we’d do it again. Sum of your experiences.
On April 29, 2017, we were still away for my mother’s birthday, the second of three days. Not much had changed in terms of Matt’s symptoms, May 1st remained impossibly far off, and my Spring allergies had a revenge story of their own to tell. And yet, April 29th was a reminder that miracles can happen.