Slane raised her hand during Prayers of the People on Sunday and prayed for Graeme's upcoming birthday. I could feel the collective thoughts of those in the sanctuary. "Has is been that long?" and "That's impossible," and "Time flies." I can't believe it either. Two years since we welcomed our son into the world, and we can't imagine life without him.
Actually, I've been reflecting on Graeme's birth for a couple of weeks now. I imagine that it will always be the one that can bring me to tears and humble me in a way the births of the girls won't. It isn't that their births aren't important or special or that I don't remember them, it's just that his birth equals near death for me, and I'm guessing one never forgets an experience like that.
I truly cannot imagine what our lives would be like without Mr. G. Over the last year, I have cherished the relationships he is forming with his sisters, the cuddles (and broken glasses) he has given Dan and I, the love of trains, cars, planes, balls, and wrestling, and his musical development (this guy is destined to be a performer of some kind). I even cherish the collective sighs from everyone when he destroys yet another of Slane's stories or tips over Hanna's milk again.
Graeme was our surprise. We were still on the fence about having a third child, and finding out about him was a shock. I cried for a while, and was too embarrassed to tell anyone for a long time. We panicked, because we have a tiny two bedroom house, and cars that only fit two car seats. We kept adding to the list why he could not come when he did, but of course nature rules and he came anyway. Now, in hindsight, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I cannot imagine being pregnant and having another child at this point in our lives, and I'm glad he came when he did.
That isn't to say that it isn't hard. Every day is hard. But every day is a little easier too. And every night, after we check in on our (hopefully) sleeping children to make sure they have enough blankets, and to take the drum out of the crib, we talk about these amazing little creatures. The laundry is so behind that no one has matched socks, there are toys strewn about the house, we forgot to practice Slane's spelling words, and that one library book is still missing, but all is right with our world, at least in that moment.
These days are gifts that Dan almost got to experience by himself, without me. But, I survived. For us, for me, the miracle happened. It is amazing how my body, with the help of prayers and modern medicine, recovered. It still comes up sometimes. Recently a coworker asked if I saw an aura when I almost died. I didn't. Last winter Hanna was wearing her "My Mommy Wouldn't Be Here If It Wasn't For a Blood Donor" shirt at the science center and someone stopped me and told me that her shirt sent a powerful statement. The story came up when we got to do a photo shoot for Life Serve blood center too. In September we got to see a life flight helicopter, and show the kids how it worked, plus talk to the pilot about it. It was humbling to see how it was equipped to potentially save any patient.
It's been two years. The details are starting to fade, but the memories of being cared for and loved, and the feelings of survivorship stick around. Thank you again for all you did for us. We continue to be grateful and humbled by the outpouring of care that came our way. We continue to pay it forward in any way we can. And we continue to love on our sweet, curious, active little two year old boy.
