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.

Day 15 - Knowing how to care

Jonathan's NICU nurse discovered what he liked. He liked to be on his belly. When put on his belly after care time, he inevitably breathed better and saturated higher. After she discovered that, Erin became my favorite nurse -- passing up even Kristy, who had first given me a chance to hold my son.

At home I was feeling the effects of fighting three infections.  But God carried me through, in more than just a physical sense. Every time we had a really strong, deep need, a solution was found.

In this case, a year ago today, the solution came in the form of a backyard swimming pool.

I wrote about it on our care page:
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Yesterday I felt the weight of two weeks of battling two to three infections. I had just gotten done telling Steve that it felt like the sort of exhaustion I get when I've had two months straight of strep (something I've experienced more than once) when my phone rang. It was my girlfriend, C.H. "I want to give you two options," she said, "Either I will come over with my kids tomorrow afternoon to play with your kids in the back yard so you can sleep, or I can take your girls to my house to go swimming in our back yard pool." And with that, this Minnesotan was cornered. If she had asked, "can I take your girls off your hands tomorrow afternoon?" my response would have been, "oh, no, I'm sure I can manage. I wouldn't want to bother, your kids just got home from camp and all..." BUT -- she circumnavigated all that and cornered me with her either-or strategy (which also works great on toddlers, by the way). 

One of the girls most beloved teachers from church took them to help her with church Sunday school stuff this morning, they then came home for a nap, and now they are off swimming with their friends. This means I SLEPT this morning. And I will sleep this afternoon. And I might just get better, finally. 

I am so grateful for friends who know what I need even before I'm willing to admit it publicly. Thank you!!! 
My parents will return tonight or tomorrow with news of my dad's doctors appointments. 
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The lesson from all of this, of course, is how to really help. Don't ask for us to tell you what to do to help. We're probably either too tired or too stubborn to tell you. Just help.

Thank you, CH, for your lesson in true friendship.

And, since a year ago while the girls were with SV or CH, Steve went to the hospital armed with a camera to take pictures of our son with opened eyes, here are a few shots (with a standard sized rubber ducky to give it some scale) of Jonathan.  He obediently but begrudgingly opened his eyes for his dad.  Here he weighs about 1 lb 6 oz, is just over a foot long, and is 15 days old (or a gestational age of around 25 weeks).

sleeping

Oh, dad, do I gotta open my eyes?