Does That Come In Extra Small?

This week's My Life Monday I got strict orders from Rachelle to take a picture of something (not somebody) that represents part of who I am. Rachelle is SUCH a slavedriver. This was hard.

I thought all week long about what I could take a picture of. (Wow, great English there, how you likin' THAT Mrs. English Teacher Lady!) I thought about taking a picture of the six different kinds of diet soda that takes up an entire shelf in my fridge. We like variety here, and also we like our diet soda. I thought about taking a picture of my kitchen since I spend so. much. friggin'. time. cleaning it everyday. HOW can it get so messy so fast? I need a maid.

In the end I decided to go a different direction. So breathe deep and try to be a bit more serious, will ya? Here is what represents part of who I am:

This is what A-Boy was wearing when he came home from the hospital, 30 days after he was born. Thirty of the longest days of my life. It is about 15 inches long and so incredibly tiny that I get tears in my eyes each and every time I see it. It is amazing to me that he was so small.

Six weeks before A-Boy's due date, I started to feel sharp pains in my chest, I downed the Maalox, thinking it was just bad pizza and tried to go to bed. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't lay down without feeling like I couldn't breathe. Nothing was making me feel better. Hours later I finally got on my knees and asked Heavenly Father what I should do. The SECOND I started praying I heard, "Go to the hospital. NOW!" That was good enough for me! Off we went.

My chest pains turned out to be my kidney and liver shutting down. I had severe pre-eclampsia and HELLP Syndrome and ended up having an emergency c-section. Within a matter of hours I went from being a happy expectant mother with no problems to almost dying and nearly losing the precious baby that had lived inside of me for all those months. I was terrified.

A-Boy was born, weighing 3 lbs 14 oz, 17 1/2 inches long. I saw him for about 30 seconds that I remember that day, then they rushed him to the NICU. He did well that first day, but by the second day he was having a tough time breathing on his own. He was put on a ventilator which helped him to breathe but also tore a hole in his underdeveloped lungs. They gave him two chest tubes, then put him on a high frequency ventilator that wasn't so forceful.

It was a hard thing to see my little baby with wires and tubes and who knows what else. He would bat at the tube in his mouth, trying to take it out. The doctor finally decided to medically paralyze him so that he could use his energy to get better instead of using it to fight. It was hard to watch him just lying there, unable to move. I wanted to pick him up, rock him, hold him but I couldn't. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry that my body failed us both. I wanted to take him away from there.

A-Boy slowly got better. Soon he was opening his eyes, looking around. He knew our voices. I got to hold him when he was 15 days old, his ventilator tubing strapped to my arm with masking tape. It was one of the best moments of my life, holding that kid. A few days after that he started breathing on his own. We got to take him home when he was exactly 1 month old.

I learned so much about myself through this experience. I learned that I am not as strong as I thought I was. I struggled with my faith. I got angry, I got upset. My cheeks were tear-stained at least once every day. I realized which people in my life I could count on, and which people I could not. I learned sensitivity. I was humbled.

This little yellow outfit represents so many things to me. A new life. Miracles. Hope. Faith, and sometimes lack of faith. It reminds me to look for the sun through the clouds, even if I know the forecast is cloudy with a chance of rain.

The day we brought A-Boy home was one of the best days of my life. To know that we almost lost him made us appreciate and love him that much more. It's a wonderful gift, this motherhood thing. Some days I wonder if it is worth everything I sacrifice, then I look at my two beautiful kids.

It is. It SO is.