Wednesday, May 29, 2013

ithinkthetitleofmylastpostisalittleironic.

Today has been more difficult than I was expecting.  Filled with emotion.  Filled with tears.  Filled with memories.

Six months ago today Ozzy received his diagnosis.  Six months ago today I found out I was a Heart Mom.  I am a Heart Mom.

I guess most of the tears come from thankfulness.  Just so thankful I have this baby boy to love.  Thankful that as I took him out of his high chair today he had at least 20 cheerios stuck to the bum of his pants.  Thankful that we made it to the cherrio phase with him.  We 'shouldn't' have.  

'Life' tried to take our boy from us 6 months ago, but God saved him.

Honestly, and depending on where your faith falls you may choose to agree or disagree.  But honestly, I think Ozzy survived because for 4 days straight as I was unknowingly watching my son die in a hospital room in Madras, I was also singing "There is power in the name of Jesus" over him, over and over and over again.  Alot in my head, and some out loud, but mostly in quiet whispers.  Just him, and I, and God.  I'm not saying that I saved him by singing that.  I'm saying the power in the name of Jesus saved him.  I will never be convinced otherwise.

Looking back on that day, November 29, 2012, he should have died.  If the Lord hadn't so put that nudge in my heart to flee to the safety of a different hospital, he would be dead.  Dead.  Do you get it?  No more Ozzy.  Just dead.  And he almost died.  Just minutes from the safety of that other hospital.  I mean, lets be honest: the poor boy's heart rate was at 225.  Yep, you read that right.  225.  I saw it myself.  I unwrapped supplies for the frantic EMT as he rescued my son and saw it myself.  Death.  So close.  We literally arrived with minutes to spare.

The Lord did that.  If that had happened an hour later at that 'not so safe' hospital in Madras, we'd have buried our son.  I am sure of it.  Absolutely positive.

So I'm thankful.  Thankful that by singing the most holy name over a horrific situation, the power of Jesus came into that room, into my heart, and MOVED.  Moved my heart into motion, my lips asking for a transfer, moved our bodies into that exact ambulance, moved that ambulance to that sanctuary of a hospital.  We got our diagnosis, we got our plane ride, we got our Ozzy.

We have our Ozzy.

I think the tears come too from pain.  Eight days ago this world lost a gem.  A sweet baby girl named Hope.  I had been following her mommy's blog off and on since Ozzy got his diagnosis.  Hope was a heart baby.  Amy was a heart mom.  That's all of our worst fear.  Loosing a child.  For a heart mom, that fear is a little more realistic.  For Hope's mom, that became a reality.  I'm just so saddened by the fact that Hope was taken from this world.  I have SO admired Amy's faith and trust and vulnerability in the pain of it all.  But it's still sad.  And I don't understand.  I just go back to what got me through Portland: God will use this for good.  

Then today I learned of another mommy loosing her baby at 38 weeks and I am reminded: life is too freaking fragile.  Not even the next breath is promised to us.  We live as if it is, but it's not.

I think that is one blessing of going through something like this: watching your child die.  Watching Ozzy die, and get so close to that reality opened up my mind to a different reality.  I'm sure it does even more so to those who actually have to bury their children.  But it's a different reality where each smile, each giggle, each breath, each cry, feels more like a gift.  Not like a "I'm going to put on a fake happy smile and say this is a gift because I want to look like a good mom and choose a joyful heart" sort of gift.  But a: "I'm crying into my babies neck because I am just so thankful he is still here with me, and my bursts of crying breath on his neck are tickling him and making him laugh which is just making me cry harder and harder because I am so thankful that I get to hear his laugh which is just making him laugh harder and harder which makes me cry harder and harder because I realize he is just so innocent and has no idea he has a broken heart and had to get his body cut apart because he almost died and he is just so damn lucky to be alive."

That kind of thankful.  Not the choice to be thankful.  But the ACTUAL thankful that swells up from inside of you and you know that is it something Holy.