Cherished

Today I finished the baby registry for Baby H. at the money sucker  Target.

A few of my dear friends asked to throw a baby shower for me and for Baby.

I had said, “No, thanks” initially.  And as the weeks went on, my friend asked again if she could throw me one.  She wanted to make sure we got to celebrate my strong boy.  So I agreed – because I felt he deserves to be celebrated and that if I was going to pray for healing – I better start believing and acting like I REALLY did believe he will make it.

Every time I would think about it, I would cry.  I would cry and be sad thinking about getting gifts for a baby I love so much but could lose.

I would cry and feel guilt that I wasn’t celebrating this baby like I celebrated Iz.  I remember the excitement of registering, talking about every little thing a newborn needs, letting my heart melt at seeing itty bitty onesies…

This time around was so different.

We already have so much from Iz.  But, I wasn’t going to use her little clothes for him.  I mean….I didn’t realize how much PINK stuff Iz had!

But registering today was literally a blur.  Mind you, this was my 4th time to try and finish it.  The times I tried before, I would end up in tears – my heart aching looking at onesies, looking at toys, looking at bottles – so unsure if he’ll even be able to take a bottle because of cleft lip/palate, looking at all the things I wanted for him but so scared to have….like I was tempting fate by getting a room ready for him.

I finished registering in record time – about 20 minutes.  I took the registry gun and just started to choose things.  Slowly, I started to see his room come together.  I started to see him in the little onesies.  I saw him sitting at the table with us in the highchair I added.  I saw him in the little portable bassinet in our living room with Dora in the background as I reminded Iz to not touch the baby.  I saw him crying in his crib as I crawled out of the guest bed we’ll have in his room, me singing a song to him, soothing him.  I even also saw glimpses of him running, playing, laughing.

I saw it.  I cherished it.

I prayed that all those things would come true.  That they weren’t just images in my head or wishes – but promises of a future.

And I smiled.  I smiled because no matter what happens, this is my son.  My son I will cherish and celebrate.  My son that has hundreds of people praying for him.  My son that is a fighter like his Daddy, feisty like his sister, and determined like his Momma.

So, today, for the first time since before I found out about his diagnosis, I cherished and celebrated him rather than feeling sad for him (and us) and weeping for him.

I cherished the promises of a future with him –  I cherished the moments of life he is living now.

I cherished it all.

 

Comments

  1. I am so happy you are going to have a baby shower and celebrate your little man. I wish I had one when I was pregnant. Hope was my third (and last) and I didn’t feel like we needed one. We had to run out and get so much before she came home from the hospital. I had a bunch of boy stuff and no girl stuff at all. We shopped a lot when she was in the hospital, but it would have been wonderful to have celebrated my pregnancy.

    I will be praying for a happy baby shower and not too many tears shed.

  2. Lindsay Frohm says:

    Czarina,
    I am glad you will be celebrating this brave little boy. He’s going to need all the love and prayers in this world. Miracles happen every day, if it’s the Lord’s will. Just remember that. Come what may, He has a plan for you and your family.
    Love you!

  3. I am so glad that you had this moment and I hope that you will continue to have more like this. Your family is in my prayers. All my love dear friend!

  4. I think it is great that you are having a baby shower. You should be allowed to celebrate the precious little miracle that he is. {{{HUG}}}

  5. I found your blog through a friend. Please know I am praying for your precious, beloved baby and for your family. And especially for you, brave mama that you are.