In retrospect, it is now 20/20. That's how life is, right? We never know what events will shape our lives, our faith, until something happens that causes us to stop and think about who really is in control after all. I was thirty-two and a half weeks with what we found out to be our first born son, and laying in a hospital bed due to complications from a condition called Placenta Previa. All my visitors had left for the day and I was winding down thinking about gearing up for yet another sleepless night. It's amazing how much you DON'T want sleep after laying in bed for what seemed like an eternity. (I was going on a little over twelve weeks of full blown bed rest).
I will spare you the rest of the details, but just know that it involved a quick phone call to my husband to get to the hospital IMMEDIATELY, a call to the OR from the nursing staff indicating a "code blue", and several prayers to protect this little child inside of me. This is what I remember...
When I awoke, I was told that my baby had miraculously survived, but he was very sick. My placenta had abrupted. A condition in which the baby does not normally survive, because the placenta, which not only nourishes the baby, but provides oxygen and blood supply completely separates from the uterine wall. If babies do survive, they have a 50% chance of having permanent complications. My little guy was immediately whisked away to a different, high risk hospital that had a level 1 NICU to care for him.
The following week was one of the darkest times in my adult life. The time was before smart phones with amazing video or picture technology existed, I was longing to see my little guy, but left with some simple polaroids that seemed to capture his vulnerable state in such a way it would make any mother's heart hurt.
Here he is after his breathing tube was removed…. (Three days old)
People begin to emerge in my room the next day with stories of angels surrounding my son and I. A doctor whom I had never met came to tell me she had delivered my baby that night. The story she told me still runs chills down my spine and brings tears to my eyes. You see, when my baby was in distress, there was no time to wait for my doctor. She was finishing up another C-Section in a adjoining operating room, and came over to deliver my son via C-section. She wasn't in my network, and I had never met her, but God had her there at the right day and the right time. "We didn't expect your son to be breathing when we pulled him out," she said. "When we pulled him out and he took that first breath of air, the whole OR started cheering!" My nurse who was on call, along with countless others assured me that a "higher power" was looking out for me that night. May 20th was coincidently my mom's birthday as well and she tells me how she prayed the entire way to the hospital that she would not lose her grandson on her birthday.
I am forever grateful to both the medical personal that knew exactly what to do that evening, and to God for sparing both my sons and my life. It was five VERY long days before I was well enough to be discharged from the hospital and able to meet my son for the first time.
Pictures like this remind me just how fragile his little life was… At five days old, he was 3 lbs, 12 oz.
So tiny in comparison to his 5' 5 body frame today.
His gentle spirit, patience, love towards others, and heart for God makes me so proud to be his mama.
I always remind him that there is a reason that God wanted him to be here on this earth. My prayer is that nothing in your life will be wasted Keegan….That you live your life wholeheartedly to find that purpose and share it with others! A very happy 13th birthday to my handsome, miracle baby boy!