This weekend, as we begin our celebration of Matthew's upcoming 3rd birthday, I couldn't help but to think about the weekend that Matthew was born.
I remember his very fast, very tough birth at home. I remember seeing him as a newborn, and thinking he didn't look like our other kids. I think we really knew then that something was wrong. Then, less than 12 hours after he was born, I will never forget being in the pediatrician's office and her asking us "so, you know about his hands?" I remember sitting in the back seat watching Darren try to drive without using his thumbs. I remember that weekend, looking at those hands, wondering when I would stop staring at them. I remember the drive to Texas Children's, the intake room, and the dark NICU. I remember the scary discussion with the on call neonatologist. I remember seeing our sweet baby Matthew with tubes and leads under the blue lights. I remember the pokes and prodes and all of the tests. I remember getting the call from the pediatrician saying it was a duplication on his 4th chromosome. I remember searching on that term and finding very scary information. I remember it all like scenes from a movie I have seen a 100 times.
This, the upcoming 3rd anniversary of those dark days, I am beyond grateful. I look at our sweet baby Matthew and our life and it far surpasses anything I expected, wished for, and prayed for during those darkest days. Thanks be to God!