Those Old Familiar Roads
This time of year is not easy for me.
All of the beauty and shimmer of the holiday season also brings many added layers of responsibility as a mother. It is we who decorate our home, bake the cookies, plan and cook the traditional meals, purchase and wrap the gifts. We create opportunities to teach our children our values, in both faith and character development. We contemplate the traditions of our families, make decisions about which ones to continue, envision and choreograph new ways to embody the season. In many homes, it is through the mothers' creativity, savvy, coordination, budgeting, and leadership that Christmas happens. This is true in my home as well.
With Levi's birthday being days before Christmas, the entire process is repeated. These are layers of responsibility run parallel to Christmas. Given how astounding it is that Levi has made it through another year and reached his birthday milestone, I try hard not to let it be just one of the many events that leads to Christmas. Rather to give his birthday the full weight of its significance in our home.
At his 1st birthday, my husband and I were in shock. The intensities of caring for a medically fragile newborn were heavy. He has survived two months of pneumonia that autumn without hospitalization. No one predicted Levi would reach this milestone. Elation and gratitude were tangible.
At his 2nd birthday, the three of us were in California. Thanks to the overwhelming generosity of friends and family, we had traveled so Levi could do HBOT therapy. Just two weeks into the 9 week process, we were already seeing improvements. We were pregnant with Younger Brother and hope was tangible.
At his 3rd birthday Levi was very sick and in the throws of what became a fight for his life. Seven identifiable lung infections simultaneous took up residence in his lungs. He was back on 24 hour oxygen, post surgery and now dealing with a G-tube, feeding pump, night nursing, and more medications. We had decided that it was safer for him to be cared for at home and he would not be returning to the hospital. The weight of death was tangible.
At his 4th birthday, my husband and I realized that the sprint we had been running since Levi's birth needed to shift to a marathon pace. He had survived his 'winter from hell.' Levi had far outlived his prognosis and the potential of having a little longevity was beginning to appear possible. Levi had just finished his second round of HBOT therapies and he was developing in surprising ways. Younger brother was an active toddler and the two were forming a meaningful relationship. Hope was returning and joy was tangible.
At his 5th birthday, we were astounded that Levi had reached such a significant milestone. Five years old... kindergarten was around the corner! How did that happen? Now wearing glasses he was looking less like a baby and more like a little boy. Amazement and gratitude were tangible.
This year, Levi turns 6 years old.
A few days ago, I found myself driving along the back roads I traveled to work while pregnant with Levi. The route was unique because after the collapse of a major highway bridge in 2007, the entire city had to re-route their commutes. I had purposefully chosen a route that wandered through neighborhoods, around lakes and parks. It was a route that was off-off the beaten path so as to avoid the inevitable increases in traffic along the common corridors. I figured if my commute was going to be longer it would at least be tranquil. When the bridge was re-built, I kept my back roads route because it had become a better way to transition after work.
It was a season when my husband and I worked and commuted together. While pregnant, those drives became times of great bonding as we dreamed about our growing child and envisioned the exciting changes of becoming parents.
Twice a day we rode together, back and forth, talking and listening. We strategized about how we could juggle the needs of a newborn, without enlisting daycare, while both working. Perhaps I would have to shift to part-time? Perhaps he could care for our child some days and I on other days? As entrepreneurs we anticipated we would have the flexibility to make our own unique choices.
In those days, according to the experiences of our friends and family, children were born healthy. We had no reason to expect otherwise. Being pregnant was something my body enjoyed and there were no complications to speak of.
In general, we knew children were born with illnesses or disabilities, but this was a world far removed from ours. Considering all of the people we knew, in the span of our whole lives, we could name on one hand the families whose child had been impacted by these things. The death of a child, newborn or older, was even farther off our radar.
When Levi was born without a heartbeat or breath, it catapulted us into a world that felt more like a far-off galaxy. When he landed in the NICU and his diagnosis lists began to grow, it was apparent that I would have to stop working. Levi's life would become my total focus.
By the time Levi was able to come home from the NICU, Christmas break was over. It was now my husband's job to earn the income we labored for together. As entrepreneurs, he took on the responsibilities of both our jobs, plus his university teaching position, and any other opportunity to earn money.
Gone were the leisurely drives together. Everything we had dreamed of had not come to pass.
It was over a year before I drove those roads again. This time by myself. And not to get to work. Just to get from one place to another.
It has become a route I choose not to take. As beautiful as it is, it's just too painful. When I drive those old familiar roads, my dreams become tangible again.
I can feel the weight of Levi's body in my belly. The loftyness of my dreams. The twinkle in my eyes. The excitement for the unknowns of parenting. The anticipation of seeing my child's face. The absolute trust that all would go well, in the ways I knew well to be.
This year, Levi turns 6 years old.
He has noticeably grown in height and weight since his fifth birthday. He is communicating more consistently his wants, needs, and preferences. We are learning better how to understand him. It has been over a year since a significant illness. In the spring he had his first apnec (not breathing) event which startled and reminded us that his brain and body are truly fragile. The passing of his friend Isaac has brought this reality home all the more. Levi continues to be the hardest worker I know. His heart is radiant and people are changed for the better when they spend time with him. Including me.
Happy 6th Birthday Levi. Each day of your 6 years has been a gift of grace from our Lord and a front row seat to the miraculous. I treasure my time with you. This year you make perspective tangible. Thank you.
