This seems to be a reoccurring theme in the few posts I make time for these days.
This time last year, I was begging and pleading with our nurses to let me see my baby. Begging and pleading to let me out of my bed. To give me a breast pump so I could be proactive and actually DO SOMETHING besides wonder what was going on with my baby and look at a scary picture of my baby with the Cpap on that was tapped to the white board with my nurses name and other insignificant information since my baby wasn't with me...
This would be the last scariest moment after a day full of 'em.
Like the moment when I got a phone call from a St. Mary's nurse as I closed my eyes to take a final nap just after my mom dropped me off from my pre-op blood work. The phone call that said I need to return to the hospital... immediately.
And the moment I realized my OBGYN was beeping in to tell me she just spoke with St. Mary's and I needed to get back to the hospital... immediately and she was headed there to meet me.
And the moment I called my mom to tell her through tears she needed to turn around and take me back to the hospital.
And the moment when my dad was the one to show up to drive me back, because he and my mom KNEW something was wrong.
And the moment when my husband called to tell me he was 3 hours away and I needed to keep him posted as I refused his return now because that would make this whirlwind real. And scary.
And the moment when my OBGYN let me know that we would be delivering the baby as soon as the anesthesiologist cleared me for a spinal.
And the moment I realized my dad snuck out of my hospital room to call Rick and tell him to get back to town because he was sure Griffin was coming today. (Thank you Dad!)
And the moment I saw Rick's face less than 30 minutes before surgery, before our sweet Griffin made his unexpected delivery, realizing without my dad's call he may have missed it.
And the moment, I heard my sweet baby cry. It was sweet and barely there, but a cry nonetheless.
And the moment when I got to lay eyes on that baby boy. That baby boy who is so much more than I could ever imagine. Love, joy and the apple of his brother's eye. Those moments make all the other ones worth it.
This time last year began the journey of being a true mother. After the year we had with Cooper, it proved to be what I needed to begin my advocacy for Griffin. Monitoring his stats, speaking with our NICU doctor, getting the nurses on our side. Reminding them his pulox was improving and his stats were remaining stable and encouraging life without any aids.
I realize in this moment right now, Cooper's medical troubles were about preparing us for what was to come, to my brain troubles and to Griffin's entrance. And as scary as all of the moments were and will always be in our memory, it is this moment right now that I sit, after Griffin's first birthday, remembering the good doesn't feel good without the bad. Tonight was so much more than a first birthday party. It was a celebration of my tiny family of 4. Of love. Of laughter. Of being strong no matter what comes our way and remembering our love will conquer all because it already has.
