It was 10 years ago that our first child was born.
He was born exactly 9 months and one day after our wedding, just weeks after my 21st birthday. We were young and in love. We had prayed for this baby, but I don't think we had any idea of the adventure we were now taking.
We brought our sweet-smelling, 7lb 6oz bundle home from the hospital, placed him in his brand new crib, looked at each other and said, "Now what?"
The next day we found ourselves in Children's Hospital. Our baby was covered in tubes and monitors, alarms were screaming, while doctors and nurses rushed into the room to sweep him away. The room went silent and we sat there alone in the dark trying to process it all.
My prayers came from the deepest part of me. I begged for his healing but I also felt that I needed to accept whatever God's will may be for his life...for my life.
The sun came up the next morning and we were taken in to see him. His little body looked even smaller in that hospital bed. The doctors did not know what was wrong. They didn't have any answers. He was moved to the NICU, where we lived for the next week.
His name means "Jehovah saves" and it was during this time that we saw God's healing hand.
His life is a little miracle. And now, 10 years later he stands nearly as tall as me. He challenges me daily. He has been my guinea pig through this decade of parenting. But I am so proud of the young man he is becoming.
So now as he enters double digits, I am reminded that his life is still a miracle. I may never know why his story began the way it did, but I know that God has big plans for him.
As we start this new journey of parenting, my husband and I still look at each other and say, "Now what?", but I know that we are not going to walk it alone.
