Two years ago today, we nearly lost Chicken Little. I think it was the closest we have ever come to loosing him.
Yes, he was very sick when he had his open heart surgery at 4 months old. But I don't remember it being as this experience.
Maybe it's because we didn't plan for it to happen. I don't know. But what I do know is that I have never been down on my knees as much as when this happened. I literally had callous, and my jeans had dirty marks on the knees for days on end.
I remember sleeping in one of the sleep rooms adjacent to the PICU. Big Bird and I would head there every night around 11 pm to go to bed. I don't think we ever really slept much. Our sense of security was gone.
We were told initially that Chicken Little would be off of the ventilator within hours. They just wanted to make sure he was stable. But those hours turned into days.
I was so full of mixed feelings. It was the one time in my life that I was actually very unsure as to whether or not Chicken Little would make it out of the hospital. I had peace, but I wasn't sure what that peace was. Maybe I wasn't listening to Him enough. My thoughts were too clouded with worry. But I think Big Bird was just as unsure as I was.
I remember praying one night, on the 5th day, and after we finished our prayers I asked Big Bird if he thought Chicken Little was going to make it. He told me he didn't know, but he just prayed for one more day with him, and when he got that one more day he thanked God for giving it to him.
I was so angry at Big Bird for thinking like this. I wanted him to tell me that everything was going to be fine. I wanted reassurance. I wanted him to have an answer for me. Of course I knew deep down that there was no way either of us knew what the future would hold, and I know now that I wasn't really angry at Big Bird, just my lack of control over the situation.
Tomorrow is Super Bowl Sunday.
This is what we did 2 years ago on Super Bowl Sunday. See Big Bird's Bear jersey? You think they could have won at least for us.
As time went on Chicken Little did actually get better. He did come off of the ventilator, and although his lungs are still sick, well, we are blessed that he is still here, and we have had many happy memories with him.
Now I pray for quite days, but I know that deep down I cherish the messes, the yelling, the screaming, and the sticky hands on my walls. If I see a hand print on the mirror, or on the glass of the stove, I am not so quick to wipe it off anymore. I like to sit and look at the detail. The short little pudgy fingers, and the thumb that he always twists as he moves his hand away from something.
Before I tell the kids to settle down I listen for a second at them giggling and being a little too rowdy. Why? Because all four of them are doing it, and I remember a time when I didn't think I would ever get to hear that again.
Our lives are full, and we are so blessed.
I am sure Chicken Little is wondering why I keep scooping him up, smelling his neck, and kissing the top of his head.
No honey, mommy isn't crazy. She just loves you that much.
You made it buddy. You made it.
5 days ago