"Firsts"

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we^[a]have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, ² through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we^[b] boast in the hope of the glory of God.³ Not only so, but we^[c] also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."

-Romans 5:1-5

Alex and I feel as if it were yesterday that we had to "glory in our sufferings" during the time that we did not know that Celia's life was promised...

We celebrated her birth. Her perfect, perfect birth: She had a natural delivery, Alex got to cut the umbilical cord, her premature lungs were developed, she was a very decent weight (4lb 3oz), and I got to hold her tiny, precious hand before they took her away to the surgeon.

 As you have heard, after this extraordinarily perfect birth of our beautiful Celia is when we received the dreadful news. "Her intestines did not form fully or correctly. She would not be able to poop, eat, absorb nutrients, thrive, or live."

We still would glory in our sufferings. No matter how many months, days, minutes, or seconds we had this gift of a child, we would glory in every moment and memory that God would give us with her: her first pacifier, which was larger than her little face; her first, pink hair bow; her first yawn; her first sneeze, which landed right on my face; the first time we held her, which was right before her first surgery; and so many more. (As you all have seen in previous pictures/blogs in the NICU).

We wanted to treat her not as an innocent infant that was to die (as blunt as that sounds), but as a precious gift that God was letting us borrow until he needed her back. I, especially, was able to think this way with the help of a sculpture.

One morning, Alex and I ate breakfast at "Mullets", in Des Moines, while I was at the end of my pregnancy. We decided to take a (rather long) walk downtown after we finished our delicious meal. Walking toward the I-Cubs stadium, we spotted a random sculpture, with a story attached. I needed a break of course, so we stopped there and began to read. I cannot relay exactly what the story said, but it went something like this:

It was a story written by a father who was telling about how he dedicated this statue, of a little boy and a dog, to his son. His son died in his teen years. The father mourned the loss of his son for a long time. He went on to say that someone finally said the one thing that helped, "If God came to you and said, I want to give you a gift, but you have to give it back after some years. It is a son who will bring joy to your life for those years, but yes, you will have to give him back. Would you say no? Of course not! You would say yes, no matter the amount of time."


The moral of this message helped Alex and I through our long journey in the NICU until we were finally discharged. My wish is that Alex and I will continue to think this way in times of trouble and that this message may help others as well.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fasting forward: To make a long story short, Celia is almost four months old. She poops every day, she eats three ounces per feeding of formula every day, she is thriving, she is off medication, she is "normal",  and she is alive.

After we were released from the NICU, we saw her surgeon ONCE. Just for a routine, "released from the NICU" check-up. He told us she looks wonderful and that there would be no reason to see him again, (unless we had any questions or concerns of course). 

After we were released from the NICU, we saw her gastroenterologist ONCE. Just for another routine check-up. He told us he was "very delighted with Celia's progress", she could be off her medication and onto regular infant vitamins, and that there would be no reason to see him again either. 

Now, we go to the "normal" pediatric check-ups (1 month, 2 months, 4 months, etc.). There is no reason to believe that she will have complications in the future. Though if complications may arise, as they may in anyone's life, we will be calm and prepared.

For now, we will keep enjoying every day with Celia. She has had many amazing moments and "Firsts" that we never imagined would happen!

First smile for the camera, 10-10-12

Wearing the onsie from Daddy's school 10-17-12

Bath time! 11-02-12

Looking cute in animal print! 11-04-12

First Thanksgiving, 11-22-12

Haha! 12-14-12

Cute Stinker today, Photography by Aunt Toni

Happy at McDonalds after throwing a huge fit. 12-16-12

First Under Armour outfit, 12-17-12

Happy tummy time! 12-17-12

-----------------------------------------------------

We recognize that this is miraculous. We recognize that others don't have such a wonderful turnout when death is around the corner; we sympathize and empathize in what they are going through. We don't know why this turned out so well for us, but we pray that those who lost and are losing loved ones may still have faith and hope. We pray they enjoyed and are enjoying every moment they have with that loved one instead of dwelling on and dreading that mournful day. 

Currently, I am reading a book that I got for Christmas. It is about those tragic situations that make you want to give up your faith and hope. "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. I highly recommend it whether you are dealing with a similar situation or not.

-------------------------------------------

Lastly, Alex and I want to thank EVERYONE for EVERYTHING. So many loved ones, aquaintences, and strangers have been so giving, loving, and supportive. We will be forever thankful for every kind word, prayer, gift, and visit. Thank you a million times! <3 <3 <3 We hope you had a Merry Christmas, and we wish you a Happy New Year!