The Start of Something New

Well, I'm finally giving this blogging thing a try. For a while now, I've been reading -- and learning, laughing and crying along the way -- my friends' blogs. 

Robyn, with her amazing storytelling skills and ability to make everything relatable. Tracy, with her faith-filled examples of who I want to be. Melissa, with her practical, make-sense tips.  And Cyndi, with her wise beyond her years look at the world.

It's the perfect time to try something new. Our family just hit a huge milestone. Savina Rose turned 5 this week!

For many families, age 5 typically means the start of kindergarten and maybe some added chores, responsibilities and privileges. But even though we're repeating pre-kindergarten and we really haven't yet added anything new to the daily routine, age 5 is a big deal.

As you probably know, Savina Rose was born too early and too small. At 32.5 weeks, Savina Rose was delivered by emergency C-section, weighing just 2 pounds, 14 ounces. The fibroid tumor growing along side her and stealing nutrition intended for her was more than double her size.

And to make a scary situation even more frightful, Robert and I were on vacation in Sarasota, FL, celebrating my parents' 40th wedding anniversary with my family.

It was our first evening at the beach when I didn't feel well. Actually, it was Savina Rose who didn't feel well. She hadn't moved much of that day. Robert tried everything -- feeding me cups of juice after cups of juice and playing Savina Rose's favorite Baby Mozart music -- to try to get her up and moving. Nothing worked.

Around 11 p.m., we headed to the emergency room at an unfamiliar hospital in an unfamiliar town. I begged Robert to turn the car around. Maybe I was being paranoid, which wouldn't have been unreasonable, and should just get a good night's sleep. But he insisted that we go, saying that he didn't care if they thought we were nervous first-time parents.

The whole check-in process is a blur, but three things have stayed in the forefront of my mind a half of a decade later. "This baby has to come out now," said the doctor upon immediately being called in from home. "If you wouldn't have come in, she wouldn't have survived the night," said the recovery room nurse as she was covering me in heated blankets. And "You planned on bringing home a healthy baby. This is not how you planned it, but you will bring home a healthy baby," said the hospital social worker after she found me sobbing in my hospital room.

Savina Rose stayed in the NICU at Sarasota Memorial for a month. Robert and I lived in a nearby hotel for a month. We spent nearly every waking moment -- and often moments we should have been sleeping -- clumsily holding her amidst a ton of wires and to the sounds of high-pitching beeps. All the while praying she'd be okay, that her lungs would work properly, that she wasn't blind, that she'd learn to suck, swallow and breathe, that she'd reach the required 4 pounds to come home, and on and on.

But while walking in and out of the NICU several times every day for a month, Robert and I couldn't help but see the photos on the wall of the NICU "graduates." They were beautiful, smiling children that didn't resemble preemies or kids who have had a rough start to life. Instead, they looked like everything was okay and, for lack of better words, typical kids you'd see on any school playground.

So that's when I became fixated on age 5. And that's when I began praying or begging God to get us to 5 years old. At the time, it seemed like it was the magic age that everything would be okay. We wouldn't have to worry about breathing issues or her eyesight or her growth. It would be the time that my guilt for allowing this to happen to her would pass. And it would be the age we would have a "typical" kid.

Now that she's 5, was I right in thinking that this magical thing would happen? Yes and no.

Savina Rose isn't a "typical" kid. Not because she has a speech delay. Not because she has weekly speech and occupational therapy sessions. Not because she's tiny. Not because we're delaying kindergarten for another year. That's all reality.

She's not a "typical" kid because she is Savina Rose, a unique, happy, loving, smart, silly, brave, beautiful, crazy, trying at times, confident, wonderful kid! She is herself, with all of her imperfections, challenges and successes. And she's nosey. Boy is she nosey!

I have come to dislike the term "typical." Sure, I know doctors, therapists and school administers need a term to assess a child's growth -- physically and developmentally. But was is typical? And why would anyone want to be typical?

Savina Rose has had her challenges, but she's strong because of those challenges. She has had her obstacles, but she's confident because of those obstacles. And I know there will be plenty of more challenges and obstacles throughout the years. Not because she's a preemie, but because she's a human being.

And I still worry -- a lot. But that's part of being a mom, and it's part of being my father's child.

Everything is great at age 5. But it was always that way. God made everything okay before she was ever born. 

So I am so thankful for my "perfect" 5-year-old. I wouldn't change anything about Nosey Rosie!