I'm not going to write the cliche. We mothers know it so well. Sometimes so painfully well. Today is a special day in our house. Our daughter turns 9 today. She's our eldest so as we enter into our last year in single digits- we look back and reflect.
A special girl was born 9 years ago in a special way. She came painfully and not without complications. (Some of the best things do.) She came with many prayers from all around. She came and went so fast.
Little Gracie had a spontaneous bilateral nemathorax. Fancy name for a scary entrance. The grand aforementioned name meant that both her lungs collapsed. Common for one lung but not so for both. Wearing a helmet, she left me before I could hold her. She went across town to a hospital with a higher functioning NICU. When the nurses gave me a Polaroid photo of her I cried not knowing if she would live or die.
The short version of the story and the most important part of the story is that my beautiful, full-term, NICU- linebacker did live. She fought back like a champ and soon came home.
My mind reels with the sweetness of the memories. My only girl. My precious girl. Oh how she is loved. Happy Birthday Spunk!
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