Sunday, April 12, 2015

Five

Every year around Avery's birthday, like most parents, I get extremely sappy and emotional.  This one has been especially hard for me, and I'm not sure why.  In so many ways, Avery is doing so well.  We are facing a new cornea transplant soon, but her general health is stable and she's such a wonderful, happy kid.  She's even saying she's five when you ask her - which is a big deal in itself.  Five just seems to be the age when you can no longer call them a baby.  3...definite baby.  4...still a wee-one.  5...kid.  I can't live in denial any more - the sun is going to rise tomorrow and it's going to be April 13th, no matter how hard I fight it.  It's only appropriate to keep my tradition of birthday entries going, and reflect on and celebrate my baby (waahhh!!) turning five.

Five years ago tonight, I was getting ready for my last child-less night's sleep.  My last night before my world completely changed.  I knew it was about to change, but I had no idea how.  On that night, I had known for two long, excruciatingly scary weeks that my worst fears had come true.  Our unborn daughter had something foreign in her brain, and no doctor could be totally sure of what it was.  For those two weeks between "finding out" and going in for the c-section, I struggled to finish the last-minute things I had planned on doing before our daughter arrived.  I had baby clothes needing to be put in her drawers, and decorations that needed to be hung on her walls.  But I couldn't bring myself to step foot into her room for fear that I'd never get to bring her home to live in it.  I could only think of the worst case scenario at that point, and I vacillated between anxiousness and dread for her birth day.

Until that point, my life experiences were pretty regular.  I hadn't lived through anything extremely traumatic, and my mental and physical limits hadn't truly been tested.  I may have thought they were - the first broken heart, the last broken heart, the struggle with career decisions, or buying and renovating our first home.  But nothing serious or earth-shattering.  I wouldn't have considered myself to be a strong person, a courageous person, or a jaded person.  Before her arrival, I complained about trivial things, and didn't know what was really important in life.  I'm sure I neglected to pay enough attention to those who were less fortunate than I, and although I felt sorry for parents who had complicated pregnancies or babies with medical issues, I probably thought, "that won't be us."  And I am glad for my naivety.  We don't have crystal balls for a reason.  Had I known that in 5 years time, we'd be going into our 22nd surgery, our 105th anesthesia, our fifth year of physical, occupational, speech, and vision therapy, and our daughter would be about to start a special needs kindergarden, I'd probably have jumped out the hospital window.  That would've been too much to take.  And looking back, it was still too much to take, but we did it, one day at a time.  We have our love for her in the forefront of our minds as we go through each painful motion and decision.  We are doing what any good parent would do.

Avery coming into the world changed everything - and I can confidently say, for the better.  She not only makes the world better by being in it, she made me a mom, and a better person.  I am no longer weak (well, sometimes I am), or naive, and that's a good thing.  We've seen scarier, more painful things in our lives than we ever imagined we'd see, but despite it all, we have an extremely happy, bright, loving little girl, and I'm so proud of her. She has taught me so much, and definitely leaves a lasting impression on so many who meet her.  I'm forever grateful to her for opening my eyes to what is truly important in life.

Five years ago, I wasn't sure that she would even get to come home from the hospital with us, and I look at her now and am amazed every single day.  She has surpassed so many expectations that both we and the doctors had five years ago, and I know that will continue.  I still worry every day.  It's impossible not to.  There are days when I can't catch my breath because I'm so scared of what's to come, but I have learned that we can take whatever it is.  Every night, Avery ends her prayers with, "thank you for all that you've given us and for how far we've come," because despite how difficult life has been, we really have overcome so much in these 5 years.  If someone could've told me on this night five years ago that on the weekend before her fifth birthday, Avery would be bowling for the first time, singing Disney songs for her family, and cracking us all up, I would've slept soundly that night.  But I had to go through it all to find out, and I am just as happy with that.

Happy Birthday to my favorite 5 year old - you will always be my baby... xoxo