Long ago you came to me,
A miracle of firsts:
First smiles and teeth and baby steps,
A sunbeam on the burst.
But one day you will move away
and leave to me your past,
And I will be left thinking of
a lifetime of your lasts...
Our time with baby girl was short. 46 days. In that short time we saw her strengthen her muscles, grow in weight and height, become alert, aware of surroundings and responsive to noise and touch. We watched her smile her first smile, follow our kids as they danced around her, respond to our voices and sleep on our chests. She improved in her eating so much that she is able to eat with no assistance (holding her cheek or chin to latch) and we don't use thickener at least twice a day. This is huge for an infant born at 24 weeks and in the NICU for 4 months. She has only been out for a little over 1 month now and, other than size, she is a normal, healthy, vibrant baby girl.
We have driven over 1,000 miles in 1 month for doctor visits, family visits, court dates and team meetings. We have been flooded with love from friends and family along with diapers, clothes, blankets, bows and anything else we needed.
This experience has been beautiful. We have prepared our children well for her 'graduation' and though we are sad, we are proud to have been a part in her story.
The other side of reality:
There is no pain like that of an empty car seat. The social worker was scheduled to come to my house and transport her to family. However, she got sick and it was on me to get the job done. We could have delayed it another day, but how confusing and heart wrenching would that have been to my kids? I gathered her clothes, bottles, formula, and all things baby girl that we wouldn't be keeping. I wrote a letter to her parents in her communication notebook we have been using. I told them how precious she was and what a miracle from God they had been given. I thanked them for trusting us with her and told them we love her and will miss her deeply. Then I put her in the car one last time, drove her to her new home and placed her in the arms of another woman who said to me, "I'm scared she'll miss you."
I held it together as I taught her how to feed her, gave her a list of upcoming appointments and her daily schedule we had been using. She rushed around frantic, telling me all they things they had gotten for baby girl. We talked about her daycare, her sleeping habits and her love to be sang to. Then my baby boy (who was never suppose to witness this) gave her a kiss and said, "Let's take her home now, mamma."
Tears flooded both my eyes and this woman's. She asked if it was too overwhelming, would I take her back? Oh yes, a hundred times yes. We exchanged email and numbers and I promised to support her however I could. And then I walked out with an empty car seat and a confused little boy.
I fought back tears as I tried to explain to my 4 year old that she had a new home with her family. He didn't understand and he wanted her badly. I switched the subject to ice cream and, thank God, he loves to eat ice cream.
I napped with him today, holding him tighter and smelling his sweet hair. I thanked God over and over again that I had 3 kids at home to love on, because I'm not sure I could do this without that relief. Then I picked up my daughters from school and held one with tears in her eyes. reminding her that God is watching over baby girl and protecting her, and we did our job.
Despite all of that, I was given a huge blessing. I knew when her last with us would be and so I held on longer and loved her harder. I knew at 3 a.m. it would be my last feeding in the middle of the night and I sang to her "Jesus loves You". I knew it was her last bath and I massaged her feet longer. I held her tighter and focused on her features more than ever before this morning. What a blessing that is to have.
No regrets.
No comments:
Post a Comment