2737 Days...

2737 days, 391 weeks, 90 months, 7 1/2 years...  such a blessing.

Somehow, I really don't know how, I decided when I was pregnant that if we could manage to get four months, four whole months with Aaron, I would be content, happy.  That seemed like such an unreachable goal, and it would be enough, if we could only have four months. 

I was wrong, so very wrong.  It can never be "enough."  I remember when my dad asked me, just before Aaron was trached if I would ever be ready to let him go.  I quickly said, "no, I wouldn't."  He gently remarked that it was good to know that. 

It's Christmastime.  Our eighth.  Such an abundance of time, yet not nearly enough.  Last Sunday I sang in our community choir.  The theme this year was "The Prince of Peace."  I was grateful to be able to get through the songs, mostly.  The closing hymn was "Silent Night" with the second and third verses sung by the congregation a capella.  By the end, there were tears running down my cheeks. 

See, it's a wonderful, joyous time, full of lights and happiness and fun.  But that's not the reason for the season.  It's our Savior's birth, and His gift to us.   

Last week, a woman I've been in contact with delivered her T13 son, and buried him on yesterday.  Saturday another friend's daughter here gained her angel wings, and yet a third child went Home last night.  And it was the angelversary (1 year) of another little girl that I was very close to.  Each one of these rips at my heart.  I know the moms.  They now belong to an exclusive club that no one wants to join, and yet I will, and so will many others.

To be privledged to sing of the Savior's birth, of all that that means...  Well, I am so, so grateful for Father's gift to us.  A line from "Good Christian Men, Rejoice!" kept (and keeps) running through my mind.  "Now ye need not fear the grave, Jesus Christ was born to save!  Calls you one and calls you all to gain His everlasting hall!  Christ was born to save, Christ was born to save." 

And that is the whole purpose of His life and gift, and everything.  He was born to save us.  I don't think I could handle this life, not just Aaron, but all the everyday challenges and struggles and minutia that goes into everything, without knowing that there is a higher power, a Being who loves me beyond measure.  And to think that there was nothing, no continued relation, no afterlife where we get to be with those we love and who also love us, well, my heart aches even more for those who don't know about this.  As hard as it is to be missing someone, especially through the years, we do have the anticipation of a joyful reunion.  Without that, life would be pretty unbearable.  With it, we know that while there will be pain, and we do miss our loved ones, it will end.  They are watching over us, they are aware, and will help us when they can. 

And then we also sang "Were you there," wondering if we were part of the heavenly host celebrating and singing and rejoicing at His birth.  I can't see why not!  What a wonderful night that would have been, and how we must have joyed and rejoiced to witness it.  Surely all the heavenly hosts, of which we were part, must have thrilled at the occasion.  The birth of any baby is such a miracle, but the Christ child, even more so.

I love this season, the season of giving, of sharing, of hope, of love.  I am so grateful for the chance to focus even more on the Savior.

 

And I'm grateful we're still sharing this journey with Aaron.  He had one of his "all you can eat" visits at the hospital today.  No one is quite sure what's going on, but it's good stuff.  His oxygen needs are lower than they've been in probably over two years.  He's sleeping less, that's a good thing.  Pulmonology said his lungs sound really good, and we're trying again to take one of his medications off.  It didn't work last July, but maybe now it will.  

 

I've gotten the final numbers from his heart cath, and yep, they're as ugly as I thought.  Research I found talked about one particular measurement and said that it's not good if it's over a six, and "particularly sinister for pediatric patients if over ten."  Aaron's comes in at a 12.   But it also noticed that in children with acquired pulmonary hypertension due to a cardiac defect (yep, that's us!) while the numbers are usually much worse, and don't respond well to medication, it also progresses very, very slowly.  So I'm going to go with that.

And I'm going to enjoy my crazy, silly, don't-want-to-sleep-at-night little boy.  Like I said, an abundance of blessings.

Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given ... the Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 6:9