We’ve Come a Long Way // An Update on Josiah

I can hardly believe it’s already July and this is only my fourth post this year!

Actually, well yes, I can believe it.  Because despite all of my good intentions and the many blog ideas that are recorded on my phone, my days are now mostly filled with this kind of fun…

img_5424

Don’t even get me started on the time I found him in the living room, in his birthday suit, playing with his diaper…the diaper I had just put on him about 30 seconds earlier.

Thank the good Shepherd there was no poop in that diaper! 🙂

Speaking of poop, a lot has happened since my last post about Josiah‘s progress after his last surgery in January. Read more…

Advertisements

Celebrating Our Miracle // An Update on Josiah

Hi world!

I know, it’s been a long while since I’ve posted anything.  Is it just me or is 2018 flying by?

We’ve had so many beloved family and friends asking about our not-so-little-anymore miracle boy and his progress post-surgery.  Now that we are nearly three months post-op, it’s due time that I sent out a little update.

Long story, short…he’s doing REALLY well!  PTL! 🙂 Read more…

The End & The Beginning // An Update on Josiah

A year ago, I could not fathom how we were going to get through 2017.  We were just about to leave the NICU after 9 weeks, knowing that we would make the hospital our second home with the multiple surgeries and follow up appointments Josiah would need.

Yet, here we are a year later, three surgeries down and only one more to go.

It was only possible by the grace of God and by your prayers.  Truly.

And as we head into this last surgery, we are anchoring our souls on that truth once more.  That His grace is truly sufficient enough for us and the prayers of a righteous person are powerful and effective.

So, what does this last surgery look like and what does it mean for Josiah? Read more…

A Reflection on Our Year of Miracles // One Word for 2018

It’s ten days into 2018 and I’ve finally started to remember to write 2018 instead of 2017.  Which means 2018 must be here to stay, right? 🙂

We kicked off the New Year with a sick baby – full blown coughing, sneezing, snot drizzled everywhere, low-grade fever, no sleep…oh the joys of parenthood.

And just as the kiddo started to get better…the husband got sick.  And then just as he started to get better…yup, you guessed it…I got sick.

Which is why this is being written ten days into 2018, instead of on the 1st of January.

I digress.

A couple of years ago I learned about One Word 365 from my sweet blogger friend Sarah.  And heading into 2016, I just knew with a strange certainty that the word for that year would be “Immanuel” – God With Us.

At the time, I had no idea that my first-born son would be born in 2016, 10.5 weeks early.  There was no way to anticipate the up and down journey it would all be, and that my one word – Immanuel – would become such an anchor for us in that season.

Heading into 2017, I felt such conviction that it would be a year of miracles.  We had just witnessed our little 29 weeker thrive in the NICU, surprise the doctors despite all of his medical diagnoses, and come home before his expected due date.

But there I was, the last day of 2017, permanently situated on my glider as I tried to rock a very cranky, sniffly little boy to sleep. Read more…

Dear Son, Today You’re One…

Last night, I started to remember the hours that led up to your sudden entrance into this world.  I pulled up the note that I still have on my phone where I documented every hour that I was feeling what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions.  Looking back, I should have realized I was in preterm labor.  But in the hazy fog of pain, my brain just couldn’t even fathom the idea that you would be born at 29 weeks.  So early…too soon.

Every time I drive past the hospital where you were born, I remember your dad speeding down the highway at 3:30am…and that’s when I realized you were coming.  November 20th would be your birthday.

I still remember the moment you were born and the nurses found your heartbeat.  You were alive.  All 2 lbs and 6 oz of you was alive and ready to fight for survival.

They asked us what your name would be.  Daddy and I looked at each other and we knew exactly who you were meant to be.  Josiah.  It was God’s promise to us – “Jehovah Has Healed.”

Those early weeks in the NICU were a blur.  Every day we stepped into your little hospital nursery we didn’t know if it would be a good day or a hard day.  We definitely had our fair share of both.

But eventually we fell into a rhythm in the NICU.  And your little corner of the hospital became mommy’s bittersweet sanctuary.  It was my season of sitting in the refiner’s fire.  It’s where I started to learn that sometimes we don’t know the answer to “why?”  But in that tension of what is and what truly is, that is often where we find the greatest treasure.

And then, after 9 weeks in the NICU, you finally came home!  And that’s when it really started. 🙂

Those newborn days of over-exhaustion and total inadequacy.  Of looking at myself in the mirror and realizing that motherhood simultaneously ruins you and rebirths you.

But also realizing that the whole “the days are long but the years are short” and “babies don’t keep” are all true.  One day, this would all be a thing of the past.  And it made me try harder to treasure each moment, to mentally capture exactly what I felt when you first laughed, to breathe in your scent after a nighttime bath.

We had our everyday days.  Days filled with playing outside and learning new things.  And we had our hard days.  Days in the hospital, surgery after surgery, realizing that this was also a part of our reality.

But looking at you now, all I see is a sweet, smiling miracle.

Son, your life is living proof that God is good.  Every breath you take and every ounce you gain is living proof that God loves to do the impossible.  Every moment you learn something new and every time you continue to defy the odds and medical expectations, you are living proof that God has the final word.

So, thank you son.  Thank you for coming into our lives and turning everything upside down.  Thank you for giving your daddy and me the greatest year of our lives yet.

And I pray for the day that you begin to realize all this for yourself.  That you ask us about the story of your birth and how you came to be.  That you start to understand that your name holds God’s promise for you.  That you can read this and know just how truly blessed you are and how much you have blessed so many just by being alive.

Above all else, on this first birthday, I want you to know that everything we have been through this last year we would do it all again in a heartbeat.  Every joy and every trial has been more than worth it to witness the living miracle that you are.

So happy birthday, my sweet, sweet son.  The best is yet to come.

Love,

Momma

P.S.  I’m still banking on you saying “mommy” first.

 

 

Josiah is Home! // One Word for 2017

img_2365

On Monday, January 23rd, after just over 9 weeks in the NICU, our miracle boy came home!

Even though he’s been home for a week now, it’s still a little surreal.  Sometimes I get up from nursing Josiah and I glance at myself quickly in the mirror and think, “Woah, there’s actually a real baby in my arms, in our home right now!”  And as hard as it is to continually nurse and care for a little one all through the day and night (I fully believe I never understood the meaning of exhaustion until I become a mom!), I cannot even begin to express the emotions welling up from deep within the recesses of my heart.

The day before we finally got discharged from the NICU, one of the nurse practitioners came by to do her final assessment of Josiah.  We started reflecting on his progress over the last 9 weeks (you can read more on that here and here).  Apart from his VACTERL syndrome imperforate anus condition (which he would have had even if he had made it to full term), he had almost no preemie-related issues (e.g. breathing problems, digestive problems, feeding issues, etc.).

She went on to say, “Honestly, for how early he was born at 29 weeks and for not having any of those preemie issues, all I can say is that this was a miracle.  He literally is a miracle.”

And in that moment, 9 weeks of heartache…9 weeks of praying and crying before the Lord…9 weeks of asking hard questions…everything, all of it, was justified.  

Her simple confession, both as a medical professional and as an “outsider” (not a family member or close friend) wholly validated all that we had gone through.

Already, in just two months of life, our son is a living testimony of how God is real and He loves to do the impossible.

Last year, I chose the word “Immanuel” as my One Word for 2016, and reflecting upon all that we had gone through at the end of last year…He truly, truly was with us.  There is no other way we would have made it.

And as the year closed and a new one began, I felt the stirring on my heart to believe.  To reach for the impossible in a deeper, daily way.

To declare that this year, 2017 is going to be about miracles.  

After all, I’m looking at one every day.

img_2366

To the countless ones who prayed with us during these last 9 weeks, we are indebted to you.  Thank you for being our village, our home team, and for carrying us through this season.  We are so thankful to have him home.

A Month of Miracles // An Update on Josiah

They all said that becoming a parent will change you forever, and you can never go back to not being a mom or dad.  They were right.

Tomorrow it will be a month (four weeks to be exact) since Josiah entered our world in the most terrifying and miraculous way.  And our world will never be the same.

I have never experienced such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time.  I have never felt so helpless and heartbroken than when I watched my son’s silent tears roll down his tiny, tiny face as a breathing tube was put down his throat in preparation for surgery…just 30 hours after his early birth.  I have never felt such an overwhelming sense of love than when countless family, friends, acquaintances, and even strangers sent words of encouragement, prayers, meals, gifts, checks in the mail, and the list just goes on.

And through out each day, gratitude has become my ever present companion.  It brings sparkle to our hospital room and shines upon every interaction I have with my sweet son.

Many of you have read my last post with an update on Josiah’s physical condition and what the doctors have told us thus far.  We are still pressing in for creative miracles and for complete healing over our son.

But today, as I reflect upon the first four weeks of his young life, I’m astounded at his progress.  And as a testimony to your prayers and to the goodness of our Father, I want to celebrate the ways our miracle son has…well, become a living miracle before our very eyes.

So, below are a couple of pictures from each of the last four weeks to visually mark his amazing progress. Read more…