A testament to the fact that God can move mountains

    At first, I did well. I focused on eating pancakes for breakfast since I hadn’t been able to for almost nine months. But as time passed without any updates, my denial turned into concern. It was nearly three hours before we heard any updates. Aiden was in the pediatric cardiac intensive care unit, and I didn’t know much more than that. The nurses finally came and moved me down to the post-partum rooms, but unlike the rest of the mothers, I had no baby with me.

    When we found out which room he was in, I wasn’t allowed to go visit yet because I was attached to IVs and waiting on the new nurse to do her rounds. David went without me and I laid in my bed and cried. I cried because the burning pain in my hand from the never-ending potassium drip was killing me. I cried because I heard other babies in rooms near mine. I cried because I didn’t know what was going on with my own baby.

    Some time passed and David came back to my room. He could barely muster out an update without crying. Aiden was on a ventilator, sedated, on morphine, epinephrine and who knows what else. I was unsure of his prognosis and remained so for about two and a half days. From what I understand (and to be honest, I’m not a medical professional, so this is going to be rough), Aiden’s aortic valve was very narrow on the ultrasound, meaning blood flow to his heart was weak. Apparently, babies have another bypass in their hearts to help with this, but soon after birth, it closes. He was given medicine to keep this bypass open until they could determine what the next steps were, to include surgery. But his heart issue would have to wait until he was stabilized, and since he came out early, his lungs were weaker than expected, and he was ventilated. Afterwards, I found out that he was intubated, they took the vent out and tried to let him breathe on his own, but he started to decline and had to be re-intubated.

    When I finally was able to see him, it broke my heart. When you’re pregnant, you look forward to that magical skin-to-skin time, that time when you just look down at the baby in your arms and breathe a sigh of relief that they’re finally on the outside. I did not get that moment until about six days later, when we finally were released from the hospital. David stayed with Aiden every night, while I had to retreat back to my room because I could not get my potassium levels up. I swear, I ate about 10 bananas in three days. I laid in my room, alone, crying and even though I knew there was nothing I could do to help Aiden, I still wanted to be with him. Not even episodes of Schitt’s Creek could help.

    All of the hits kept coming. I felt myself trying to distance myself from him in a way because I wasn't sure if something happened to him, I could handle it. I didn't want to get attached to him. But it was impossible. I was finally discharged and roomed with Aiden. Doctors and nurses came and went. They said big words, they gave updates that I didn’t understand because my brain was foggy. Thank God for David. He’s really the only one who kept it altogether. He was with Aiden when I couldn’t be. And when I honestly wasn’t sure I wanted to be. Remember when I said that I didn’t want to get attached? It’s horrible, but part of me at the time thought that maybe my potassium levels were a saving grace. I still feel guilty for feeling that way.

    But God, He moves mountains. I’ve sang about it in church so often that it should be tattooed on my heart by now, but at the time, I was terrified that I wasn’t going to bring Aiden home. Looking back, in those moments, the moments of uncertainty, the moments of feeling like I somehow failed the child that grew inside my body, I am nothing but certain of and grateful for our God. I know there were hundreds of people praying for us and I’m so thankful and grateful for the people who had faith and trusted in God when I wasn’t sure I could. It’s hard to admit that even now, because I so much want to trust God 100% through every situation and circumstance, and while I did trust that His timing was the right timing and that His will would be done, I was still worried that it wouldn’t line up with what I wanted. I’m grateful for the community that rallied around us that was strong enough to

   But, here we are, almost a year has passed since our family added little Aiden into the mix. For years, I was certain that our family was complete with just Austin. Even while I was carrying Aiden, I was unsure of how I was supposed to love two children the same amount because I knew my love for Austin, and I didn’t think it was even possible to love someone else that much. I know my mom is reading this and laughing because I had a genuine concern that I couldn’t love another child as much as I loved Austin. She assured me that I would, and she was right. Once Aiden entered our lives, I realized that sometimes, something can be missing from your life, and you don’t even know how incomplete you were until it’s there. Aiden was the completing piece to this crazy, beautiful, stressful, chaotic, wonderful life that David and I have built.

    He’s going to have one heck of a story to tell people as he gets older. He beat every challenge stacked against him, from a geriatric pregnant mom, to growth restriction, to heart issues, to being born early and spending time in the PCICU. He’s a true testament to the fact that God can do anything.