Beginnings of Life

Life has a strange way of preparing parents for future events. Fifteen years ago, our second child, Jade was born and she just came home. Little did we know she was about to take us on a journey of our lifetime. For two years, she struggled to sit, crawl, walk, eat, respond, and thrive in general. Just before her third birthday, our world was ripped out from under our feet as we were given the news she was profoundly autistic. The list of “will never’s” was the longest list I thought I would ever hear. Yet, this list was just what I needed to fight for her. However, this fight did not start over night.

Dreams. Dreams that every parent has for a child can be shattered like a mirror dropped to the floor in a split second. All it takes is a doctor saying, “your child will never…” Imagine this as a new parent. You know your child can be a future doctor, scientist, or even an amazing leader, until, a doctor says, “your child will never… (insert list)” All hopes and dreams are shattered and the parents are left devastated without support to pick up the pieces and continue being the parent to this being they thought was their child.

In time, we learned to pick up the broken puzzle pieces and help figure out what our daughter needed. In time, we found support. In time, we developed friends with other families with other children with autism, and learned how to fight for our child. In time, we became her advocate, and learned along with her what she needed to know to progress. In time, she lost her profound autism label and became high functioning. I know this does not happen to all children with autism, but in time, we found a new child inside our daughter and learned to help her shine.

Life continued fairly smoothly until nine years ago. We had developed a rhythm for our family and we had things figured out. Or so I thought.

In 2004 we had four children and we were expecting our fifth child. We knew there were possibly going to be issues because I kept going into preterm labor. Zach stormed into our life and showed us how far from having a developed rhythm we were and threw a monkey wrench in everything. He jumped into this world at 33 weeks and had very under developed lungs. After a couple weeks he came home and I thought I understood the NICU.

Within a couple weeks he was back in the hospital and we discovered he was born with a congenital heart defect CHD. He had a VSD and it looked like he would require open-heart surgery. Turned out this stinker would require eight surgeries by the time he was four, but none on his heart. He was blessed with his VSD closing on its own. He did however require a feeding tube. This was left in place until just before his 4^th birthday.

Our main goal… IF we were going to have any more children, ALL his medical equipment would be gone first. Yeah, good goal but God had other plans for us. Our sixth child snuck in on us.

Eight years ago, five children in the house, to much medical equipment, or so was the thought and the sixth on the way, nerves were raw. Everything looked perfect until May 2005 when I was diagnosed with cancer and required surgery in June to remove the tumor. Still, all ultrasounds showed no problems. We were pronounced to have a perfect baby. Possibly a girl.

October 15^th, our world would once again change forever.

Our littlest princess was born and at first, all seemed fine. Then suddenly, something was not right. She too was 33 weeks, and taken to the NICU for observation and antibiotics “just to be safe.” Within a few minutes, she was struggling to breath. Within a few hours, she was on life support. Within 18 hours of birth, our littlest princess was in serious trouble, and the NICU struggled around the clock to offer her a chance to come home.

We were about to learn real meaning of the NICU life. We were about to learn what it meant to have medical equipment and supplies in the house. We were about to learn what it meant to get really close to the NICU and other hospital staff members. The hospital and Ronald McDonald House would become our home away from home.