Happy 2nd birthday, dear little Asa

By the time Asa came into this world almost two months before his due date, we had already been through the preemie thing.

I had already survived Pre-eclampsia once before, I knew what to expect when the nurses started the magnesium-sulfate through an IV in my arm, and I was well familiar with the routine of seeing my newborn baby for only a moment before he was whisked away to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit.

I held him for a few seconds before giving him back to the doctors.

After Asa was born, I still had that hope that my baby would ultimately be alright, but with a greater understanding of what the rough weeks ahead were going to hold.

I knew it would be a few days before I would even be able to hold him. I knew he would have wires and IVs and an oxygen mask. I knew he would sometimes forget to breathe, prompting numerous alarms to sound. I knew I would be going home from the hospital without my baby. It was familiar because we had already been through it all with our older son, Asher.

However, despite the fact Asa was actually born two weeks later than Asher and was 2 lbs heavier, Asa was much sicker. He had a CPAP strapped to his tiny face for several days to help him breathe. He had Respiratory Distress Syndrome and struggled to pull in each breath, making a terrible noise in his tiny chest with each gasp for air.

No one except the doctors and nurses were even allowed to touch him for the first few days. I held him for the first time when he was three days old.

Even though we had already successfully been through almost the exact same scenario with Asher - who is now completely healthy - I worried about possibilities I didn't even know about when Asher was born. I knew all the things that did not go wrong with Asher but potentially could have. And as I stared at my precious Asa inside the big plastic incubator, I worried that things would not turn out as well. Could a woman really go through this twice and have everything turn out okay both times?

Every time I left the hospital after visiting him, I worried that he would bond with his nurses instead of me. I was afraid he wouldn't know me as his mother. I had to will myself not to think about this, because just the thought was very upsetting.

I went through the familiar disappointment of having a baby unable to nurse for his first couple weeks of life. So we did the next best thing - I held him close and talked to him as he took in my milk through a feeding tube. I caressed his face and head, I held onto his hands, and I sang to him while he lay against my chest - anything to help him know me and remember me when I was not able to be with him.

But - God is so good - everything did turn out alright for this family both times. Asa came home from the hospital after a month.

Leaving to go home from the hospital

And today, my precious baby is two years old. He is growing. He is healthy. He is loving and affectionate. He's sensitive and hilarious. And he brings us so much joy.

And do you know what? It's almost like that month he spent in the NICU without me didn't happen. There's no doubt in his mind about who I am. I am Mommy. He is my little boy. 

Happy birthday, sweet boy! You are a miracle! I love you more than I could ever put into words.