AUTHOR: Carolyn Savage | POSTED: 11/12/15 10:01 PM
Last night I fell down a rabbit hole of memories.
I was flipping through my phone and unearthed videos and pictures that I hadn’t seen or thought about in what seems like an eternity. It’s hard to remember what it was like when Nicholas was a newborn. How perfect he was on this day exactly one year ago…and then how far from perfect we ventured in the months following his birth. There are times when the memories of what our son went through seems like a dream. A really, really bad dream. Especially when I look at him now.
“You’d never know.”
I hear that a lot and I agree. It’s hard to imagine that Nicholas was so very sick. And the medical mystery that surrounded his deteriorating condition and perplexed doctors at five different hospitals…well, I am just eternally grateful he survived.
Nicholas still wakes every night for a feeding. I know from a nutritional standpoint that he really doesn’t need it. I know from a sleep training standpoint that I should let him work it out and end our 4 am rendezvous. But they last all of ten minutes, and that time I spend rocking him in the dark and snuggling his body close to mine is special. It’s cozy. It’s safe. It’s quiet and private. It’s almost like I’m trying to make up for the trauma of his first few months in this world.
It’s also during that time that I often think about Nicholas’s mere existence.
You know…he really shouldn’t be here. How is it that we did everything under the sun to get pregnant during what was supposedly the most fertile time in my life and couldn’t but then conceived naturally at 45?
I was told carrying another pregnancy after Logan would be treacherous…damn near disastrous to my health. Yet we didn’t hit a prenatal glitch. How?
How is it that our newborn baby boy survived a relentless pneumonia that eventually morphed into bacterial meningitis? Nicholas should have permanent brain injury…or hearing loss…or all of the other things that almost always come with bacterial meningitis in a newborn. But he doesn’t!
“How are you here?”
I’ve learned over the years that answers are elusive. As I’ve lived this past year with Nicholas and processed everything we’ve been through–everything he’s been through–I’ve accepted that answers aren’t always necessary. Even though we often want them. We stomp our feet, and raise our fists wanting so desperately to know, “why?”
“Why did this happen? Why didn’t that happen? How did this come to be? Why didn’t that come to be?”
I think my life’s experience has shored me up for this journey. Enduring the pain of infertility; shepherding Logan into our world while balancing a broken heart with a resolute soul; learning to focus on the blessings in front of me instead of dwelling on the dreams that got away; all of it has steeled me for the challenges that come.
Perspective is my weapon.
It allows me to be positive about the present and hopeful for the future even in the face of uncertainty. Perspective has also allowed me to accept the mysteries of my life.
Today I celebrate Nicholas’ life. He has brought so much joy into our home.
For that we are grateful.
In honor of Nicholas’ first trip around the sun we are asking our friends and family to consider a gift to the PCD Foundation. Nicholas doesn’t need a big party with gifts and cake. He needs a cure. Funding research is our best avenue to providing Nicholas and other children with PCD the best chance at a healthy and full life.
If you can donate we’d be touched. And, if you can continue to pray for him…we’d be thrilled.
Either way…just know we are grateful you are here.
To donate click here…