It's not a small thing to consider how quickly a decade can go by.
Our caboose turned ten today.
At 12:05 pm.
Ten years ago at noon I was on the operating table waiting to see our little boy, who we were told might not be born alive, or would most likely not live much past his birth.
Here's the short version of why we consider our Morning boy to be our miracle:
At the first and only ultrasound during my pregnancy with him, the ultrasound technician spotted four choroid plexus cysts, or pockets of fluid on his brain. We were told that these cysts were most likely a marker for a condition called Trisome 18. It was a frightening few moments that turned quickly into an opportunity to exercise our faith. Since this was fairly early in the pregnancy, Mr. Dub and I decided quickly not to spend our energy for the remaining four and a half months worrying about something over which we clearly had no control. I did NOT go home and look things up on the internet. I did not have any further testing, and I made up my mind that we were NOT going to despair over something that we could do nothing about. We DID share our story with only four individuals who we knew would guard our secret as sacred, and who would be able to help support and sustain us during a busy and uncertain time. We decided no one else needed to know, and no one else needed to worry. We made plans to have our family close by at the time of delivery.
And OH! did we feel tremendous JOY when our last little guy was born healthy and strong. He is a gift. I'm grateful for EVERY.SINGLE.MINUTE of the last ten years.
Today, he enjoyed phone calls from loved ones
A new tin lunch box he's named Reynaldo
Big sisters at home who mix things up a little
Good friends who make us laugh
(we are happy to return the favor)
and a made-to-order chocolate chip cookie ice cream cake.
HAPPY Double Digit BIRTHDAY M.B.!!