Everybody's Miracle

Having Gavin home has been absolutely wonderful, and life has settled into a type of normalcy that has allowed me to feel more like the mother of a newborn than the guardian of a time-bomb that might self destruct at any moment. With that subtle shift toward normal has also come the freedom to get irritated with some of his newborn quirks (like random nights of unrelenting crying, fussiness from gas, refusing to eat even when hungry.... you parents know the drill). There is no longer the persisting terror of, "what if we lost him today and I had wasted time feeling annoyed instead of just loving him?"
Last night was one of those frustrating nights, and as I sat rocking Gavin at 4:00 am, still not even in my PJ's, the irritation began to mount, until.... I remembered. I remembered staring down at him through the incubator as he screamed amidst the wires and wishing that I would give anything just to be able to hold him while he cried. I remembered being jealous of the nurses who got to hold him and knew how to comfort him when I didn't. But mostly, I remembered all of you. I remembered the face of every person who came to visit Gavin in the NICU and held him, or fed him, or just loved him. Without fail, as soon as we would place his tiny little body in your arms, there would be an almost reverent quiet and then, tears. Every time. Something about snuggling this little boy who never should have known life connected with that something in all of us that really and truly believes in miracles. That part of us that KNOWS that there is a God in Heaven who looks down on us and loves us more deeply than we can fathom. And the gentle in and out of Gavin's breathing is irrefutable proof of that love. I guess somewhere amidst the dirty diapers, spitup and sleepless nights, I let that slip away from me. I know that there will be countless days and nights of frustration, and that I will still get angry when he grows up and gets into trouble, but Gavin will always be my gentle reminder that life is the miracle, and love is what makes it possible. That miracle belongs to each of us and sometimes it just takes one tiny little baby to help us remember.