Yeah. So everyone and their grandmother has a blog. I'm just blindly following the crowd, assuming that someone out there will want to read yet one more page of yadayadayada from a frustrated writer who rants about post-election blues, holidays with dysfunctional families, and the evils of Wal-Mart.
Not necessarily in that order.
However, a tiny and fragile, beautiful and much-loved little guy named Will actually prompted me to start my blog. His daddy started one to document Will's progress in the NICU. Will weighed about a pound when he was born, 16 weeks early and by c-section when his mommy, Mary, suffered a severe case of HELLP Syndrome. Sometimes my 1-year-old son Henry's diapers weigh more than that. As Will struggles to breathe, eat, and grow, we struggle right along with him through John's words. And we—friends, family, and co-workers—offer up frequent thoughts and prayers, along with frozen casseroles and promises to help with house chores and e-mail notes of support.
Watching John and Mary cope, so strong and brave, has been quite an inspiration to many people. How fitting is Will's name...he sure has a strong one, and he inherited it from his folks. Whether you're a person of religion, spiritual faith, or believer in fate and destiny, I think this blessed baby is quite a miracle. Using the second defintion of the word in Merriam-Webster's 11th edition—an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment—Will is a miracle. And so are his parents' resolve, his hospital caregivers' talents, advances in modern medicine, and generous souls who donate in support of invaluable research on prematurity.
I thought a lot about Will's situation recently as my husband Tim and I celebrated Henry's first birthday. We take far too much for granted. I gave a silent thank you to the powers-that-be (luck or fate or a higher power) for the relative ease of our pregnancy, delivery, and first year with our little man.
And then I gave another silent thank you to that little guy in the NICU. Thanks for fighting, Will. Thanks for reminding us how amazing life can be. We can't wait to celebrate YOUR first birthday on Oct. 26, 2005.
Not necessarily in that order.
However, a tiny and fragile, beautiful and much-loved little guy named Will actually prompted me to start my blog. His daddy started one to document Will's progress in the NICU. Will weighed about a pound when he was born, 16 weeks early and by c-section when his mommy, Mary, suffered a severe case of HELLP Syndrome. Sometimes my 1-year-old son Henry's diapers weigh more than that. As Will struggles to breathe, eat, and grow, we struggle right along with him through John's words. And we—friends, family, and co-workers—offer up frequent thoughts and prayers, along with frozen casseroles and promises to help with house chores and e-mail notes of support.
Watching John and Mary cope, so strong and brave, has been quite an inspiration to many people. How fitting is Will's name...he sure has a strong one, and he inherited it from his folks. Whether you're a person of religion, spiritual faith, or believer in fate and destiny, I think this blessed baby is quite a miracle. Using the second defintion of the word in Merriam-Webster's 11th edition—an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment—Will is a miracle. And so are his parents' resolve, his hospital caregivers' talents, advances in modern medicine, and generous souls who donate in support of invaluable research on prematurity.
I thought a lot about Will's situation recently as my husband Tim and I celebrated Henry's first birthday. We take far too much for granted. I gave a silent thank you to the powers-that-be (luck or fate or a higher power) for the relative ease of our pregnancy, delivery, and first year with our little man.
And then I gave another silent thank you to that little guy in the NICU. Thanks for fighting, Will. Thanks for reminding us how amazing life can be. We can't wait to celebrate YOUR first birthday on Oct. 26, 2005.
Comments