He came too early, far too small for the magnitude of our fear.
There were days in the incubator, beeps, tubes, and whispered prayers in the hospital hallway. I learned to count victories in weight gain, in unaided breaths, in news reports that began, “He’s a little better today.”
Today the nurse removed his last bracelet and said, “He can go home.”
No one could see him, but my entire world fit into that tiny, transparent crib, wrapped in a blanket and smelling of hope.
I’m taking home a baby, but also the assurance that miracles sometimes weigh less than three kilos and fit in the arms of those who don’t give up.
If this victory touches your heart too, write “welcome to life” in the comments – for him and for all the premature babies still fighting. đź’›
