Week 3 & 55 of life: Two bridges - the difference a year can make

A year can make a huge difference.

A year ago, still healing, I struggled to walk up this bridge to the NICU

This weekend I ran this bridge.
(Click and check the top of the tree line on the horizon if you can't see it.)

This is what I earned this year - a metal around my neck.

This is what I earned last year - a child next to my heart.

First time holding my son, at three weeks and two days old.

This is how we did kangaroo care.

A blanket and my heat kept him warm.

Two nurses helped get him on my shoulder so that

he would be safe and not too much disturbed.

We worried that he'd get too cold.

Gratefully, I've held him many times since.

Here are me and he, exactly a year later.

We don't even call this kangaroo care any more.

I'm just holding my baby.

The sun keeps him warm, sometimes too warm,

And I can pick him up whenever I want to.

A year ago when I was done,

we (at least one nurse and me)

would snuggle him back into his isolette.

He had a very hairy blonde back.

He had brown silky hair.

Now when I'm done,

I pass him to an uncle.

He stands and chats at us. Or yells about the weather.

He has a very hairy blonde head.

His uncle has the brown spiky hair.

We sit and stare at my favorite river.I think about the race we ran.
"See little buddy?" I whisper to JAM,
"I told you it would get better."



Scars - they fade.

Remaining only as pillars, reminders
of our struggles
and of God's faithfulness.

Pain - it disappears.

Except for on those days
when the weather changes
and the ache reminds you of what you've lost
A lot. A lot was removed.

But
A year ago, a year
was all the further ahead I dared to dream.

The most important bridge was a half a block long.
Now the bridge is longer.
We see farther.

A year - can make a difference.