Poppy Jean showing off her milk tongue at 8 weeks old
All day as I was planning what to write tonight, I was feeling sad and sorry for myself. I was thinking about how I would have still had those two extra months to prepare. I would have felt the babies kicking each other and flipping and hiccuping for eight additional weeks.
But then, I got a beautiful reminder of the miracles of life that surround us every day.
Today, my inspiration came from my Facebook news feed of all places. A friend of mine posted this morning that her little cousin, Ashton, was in the hospital, having blood tests, and waiting to have a tumor removed from his brain. I didn't know anything about him before I read her post, but my heart hurt for him and his family. Then, later in the day, my friend announced that once the doctors began surgery, they found NO tumor. What had showed in the MRI was a portion of his brain that was leaking spinal fluid. I don't know what will happen to Ashton now, but this is a very important victory for the little guy and his family.
So today I am reminded to be thankful. And I am. Had my babies been born today, they each would have weighed around eight pounds. Because he was breach and so much larger than expected, Spyder would likely have been stuck to the point where he would not have been able to be delivered, and I may have had an emergency C-section. In that case, the doctors would have knocked me out - I would have slept through the delivery and never met Mr. Spyder while he was alive.
Brad and I cherish the hour we got with Spyder
This really did work out the best way it could have. And the results are amazing. I miss my son more than I can explain, but my baby girl is healthy and at home and has reached her "developmental birthday." I am so glad for the reminder of life's miracles that little Ashton provided today.
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