That’s the only thing I could think of to title this post, because I will always think of it as this day. On this day two years ago, with a huge lump in my throat all day, I packed all my new baby girl’s things into a tiny pink suitcase, and mine into a less tiny one, loaded a wagon into the car, and wondered what else I might need for our hospital stay. I was getting ready to watch all my other kids say goodbye to our sweet girl, to watch them all fade away in my rear view mirror.
I wondered if I would bring our girl back alive.
Then, there was the after. We rolled her into surgery and she came out like a champ. We had a couple of setbacks, but overall, she busted it right out of there. I have to remind myself of this. As much as I celebrate this day, it also brings the lump in my throat back. I start to doubt. I start to wonder if God puts a cap on the number of miracles He hands to one woman. If that’s so, have I reached mine? Because, there was that time I got my kids out of Ghana. There was that time that Ghana gave me a daughter so broken that I wondered if she would ever live a normal life and she has. There was that one time I had a daughter declared terminal and she thrived. Maybe God is done listening to me ask for things when I am so wholly inadequate?
That’s ridiculous, I know it, but I wonder.
On this day, which is also the eve of her birthday, I have to remember that miracles are limitless, and all I can do is enjoy what we’ve already been given, every single day.
We went from this, where she was nearly two YEARS old and the size of a 6 MONTH OLD.
To this, your developmentally typical almost 4 year old.
Living every single day like it’s all our last.
–FullPlateMom, who can’t wait to see what the next two years will bring.