April 1st, 2013! The day our beautiful HarleeRae Miracle decided she wanted to enter the world, a whopping 3 months and 10 days early. Considered a micro premie for being born at 25 weeks, she was the littlest baby I had ever seen.
I could see her veins through her paper thin skin, I could see her little lungs working so hard to gain oxygen, and I could feel my heart pound at the love I felt for that little someone that I just met. She weighed all of 1 lb. 11 oz., and all I heard over and over from the nurses and many doctors working tirelessly by her side was, “She is doing great!”…”I can’t believe how well she is doing..”
All I could do was stand there, looking down at that little angel, their statistics kept rolling through my mind..
“she has a 20% chance of survival, 75% chance of having developmental issues…” –numbers, numbers, numbers! I hate numbers and percentages!
Since this wasn’t my baby, but my grandbaby, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I needed my daughter to know what may be ahead, but I needed her to have faith too. For the first time in my life, I was torn between the two. For myself, this isn’t a problem. I have lived my life knowing the odds against me, but believing in the power to overcome. When you watch your young daughter going through something like this, you want to make sure she is mentally prepared for what lies ahead, but knows that God can do all things.
I watched as the doctors carefully assessed our HarleeRae, I just sat staring at her and thinking, she is so small. I couldn’t get over it. When all was clear, they told me to come closer and that I could touch her, but Nana was scared to touch her, scared to breathe on her and scared of disturbing any of the many tubes going in every direction from her body. She was literally the size of my hand, and to me that was unbelievable. She would make short, jerking motions and I knew that those were the movements Ashley felt in her belly. She still had some physical development to do, and all I could think of were the pictures in the “What to expect..” book, and then it hit me..
she is over 3 months early…3 months. A trimester and a half away from full development!
I was somewhat in shock. The numbers kept rolling through my head and it was then that I had wished we’d never been told of probabilities or possibilities. Doctors use science, and I fully appreciate that science today! Before I lean on anything, I use faith. Faith that this baby, who I can hold in the palm of my hand, will indeed be just fine.
I knew in my heart that this baby is a miracle waiting to shine. She may have a long road ahead, but she has some of her Nana in her, and some of her momma, and some of her granny, and there is both strength and defiance in her blood. There is will, character and determination running through her veins. And if all that was already inside her, then we just had to give her every ounce of love we could from the outside, and this little precious girl will start right then and there to grow, and survive, because in this family, that’s just what we do!
This is what life is. The intertwining roads of change. I never experienced something so beautiful and fearful simultaneously. But here it was.. In my own journey.