Last week I had prayer on my mind and there was some wonderful discussion on
BlogHer. Over 1700 people read the post, which is testament to the site and to its reach throughout the world.
I
have continued prayers for Lucas- whom I'm happy to report is on the
mend, off of his ventilator, and may come back to Fargo from the U of M
Hospital in a week or so. What a difference a week makes.
Lucas
went from critical condition and a helicopter ride he might not have
survived to sitting up, looking at books, and smiling. He's a fighter,
that's for sure. Prayers, energy, medicine... whatever you'd like to
attribute his improvements to; he's improved.
This type of stuff
changes you, you know?? This having a sick child, setting up camp in the
hospital, wondering all the time if something will happen... I'm sure
you're thinking I'm saying something so obvious; of course it changes
people. But I mean it REALLY changes you.
I'm fortunate to know
Lucas's mother and to have spent time with his family. We've been up in
the hospital two or three times together and have a pretty good
understanding of each others child's conditions. And there's something
about that... the knowing what you know you'll go through. The knowing
of the struggle that awaits. The knowing that the
life you planned is going to be totally different and will include excruciating heartbreak.
'My
guts are different' is the only way I can really describe how I feel
since Rowan's diagnosis. My heart, my guts, my cells. All have changed.
There are some things I just don't care about anymore. I have had a
change of focus and now appreciate so much I feel I didn't even see
before. I'm overjoyed by some of the smallest things Rowan does and by
what may seem to others to be little
accomplishments. Lately, for
example, he's been going up on his knees when lying on his tummy. He
tries to use his arms a bit more, too. This is huge, my friends. I'm
so sad to share that I kind of gave up for a couple of weeks after we
brought Rowan home from his first two hospital stays. He was so
lethargic and was nowhere to be found...My baby boy was just gone. I
thought that he'd remain sedated and limp- and I conceded. I wasn't
giving him any credit for how his sweet little brain could process when
not wrecked with seizures. I didn't have a clue what he was capable of. I
sold him short.
Now, thought- expectations have changed. He's in
therapy and seems to be doing well. He's, of course, no where near
where other one-year-olds are. He can't sit up, can't talk, cannot
grasp anything for more than a second or two... but he can change your
guts.
I wonder what the future holds for our little boy? I am
excited to watch him touch others and learn in his own way at his own
pace.
I know one thing; he has made me an entirely different human being... and for that, he's the strongest person I know.
