{still}

Monday morning, Avram and I woke up, ate breakfast,  and drove to my friend Jenn's house.

And then he had a seizure.


The world stopped.


Getting bad news while I was pregnant was scary. Watching Ave sleep in the NICU was scary. Brain surgery was scary.

But this was no longer a baby we were just starting to get to know. This was our baby now. Our guy. The Little Buddy. The Drool Monster. Our son.

And it took "scary" to a whole new level.

We are home now, and Avram genuinely seems like his normal, charming self. Wakes up laughing and smiling, is putting away solids like it's his job, still propped-sitting and rolling over, sleeping well. We still don't know what caused the seizure, so we are a little on edge.

Thank you all for the emails, visits, messages, texts, and calls; thank you even more for your prayers. At first I felt so defeated knowing this beautiful article had just been published, and thousands of people had just heard Avram's testimony. I felt like his miraculous story had been tainted, stolen from him. But I slowly realized that Ave now has a support network numbering in the thousands, he has people praying for him all over the country. What the enemy has meant for destruction, surely the Lord is now working out for Good, for Healing, for Peace.

I could retell the story scene by scene, but to be honest I am exhausted: mentally, physically, emotionally...and all I have to say is that, in the blink of an eye, a lot of things that once seemed like a big deal were no longer important. Gift cards, new clothes, party plans, feeling plump from too many goodies, hurt feelings, blog hits, family feuds...suddenly nothing in the world mattered except one thing:

Our baby.

Heading into the New Year, we have our baby--still healthy, still happy, still here--so we have everything we need. We are still waiting, still watching, still hoping, still believing. And in the mean time, we have everything we need.

Everything.

Ave sleeping in the hospital

{read all about it}

A dear family friend, Sandy Thorn Clark, came to Jason & me a couple months ago. She knew all about Avram's little journey so far and wanted to write a story about him for the Chicago Sun Times. Sandy felt that our story was worth sharing, that it might offer other people a little bit of hope this Christmas.

We agreed.

This morning, I woke up to see the Little Buddy's face in the newspaper. He's just so dreamy. Usually it's really exciting to see your name in print, to be featured in the newspaper. It feels like such a big deal, you know?

But to be honest, a big part of me wishes that Avram didn't already have a story worth being told in print, that his 8 months of life weren't extraordinary enough to be featured in a major newspaper. If I could have any say in it, I would rather he live a very normal, very quiet life as a baby.

But Someone had other plans.

And if someone can read this article today and be reminded to see a little bit of good amidst all the junk in the world, if an expecting mother can read this and find peace, if someone who was just handed a bad diagnosis can find some comfort and hope, if Avram can read this years from now and how special he is... then I'm pretty ok with it.

Click here to read the article online, or be a good Chicagoan and pick up a print edition while you're out Christmas shopping today.

Sandy, you did a beautiful job. Thank you for helping us tell our story.

{one year ago today}

One year ago today, I shot out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning: by the end of the day we would know if our little peanut was a boy or girl.

One year ago today, I watched my husband's eyes fill with tears as he saw that precious baby's heartbeat for the first time.

And then, I saw the ultrasound technician's face crease with concern, and I heard the gravity in my doctor's voice.

One year ago today, I called my parents, who were expecting a phone call of joy and celebration. I had to tell them, while choking on tears, that something was wrong with our baby boy.

One year ago today, I laid on a table in a Level II Ultrasound room, clutching J's hand so hard I felt like I would fall through the floor if I let go.

One year ago today, I let God have it. I prayed the most angry, questioning, fear-filled, doubt-filled, frustrated, pleading prayer I have ever offered up.

One year ago today, they told us this baby wasn't worth keeping.

One year ago today, I didn't think I would ever see today.

But today.

Today.

Today, I woke up to the sound of a babbling baby, giggling in his crib.

Today, I watched my seven-month old bubba roll across the living room floor all by himself.

And I saw the joy in his face, the ever-growing curiosity in his eyes.

Today, I talked to Avram's physical therapist, who said that everything he is doing is age-appropriate, who said that he is her only patient who does something new every time she sees him.

Today, I laid on the floor with the Little Man while he cooed and sang and gnawed on toys with his two brand new teeth.

Today, I rocked that baby to sleep for a nap, and prayed the most grateful, humbled, faith-filled, peace-filled prayer I have ever prayed.

We still have a long journey ahead, but today...

We made it to today.

"Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. he does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of wordless sighs, our aching groans.

He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good."

Romans 8:25-28, The Message

{drool monster}

Well, believe it or not, Avram is now seven months old. He is officially more than half way through the first year of his life. How did this happen? He was just born like, last week. It's like he's going to wake up from his next nap and start driving, popping zits, and telling me how uncool I am.

He is just such a big guy. He's teething right now, which has just been an absolute joy. My snuggly bubba bear has suddenly morphed into this Raging Drool Monster who gums and bites everything in sight. He refuses to be put down (or to sleep); if I try to put him in his crib or play-mat he clings on to me like a crazed Koala. J and I took turns kicking each other out of bed all night to rock and bounce and walk the Doctor of Drool-Doom.

Tylenol seems to barely make a dent in his suffering, and he turns his nose up at teething toys, like he's too mature for them. He tries his corn-on-the-cob routine up and down my arm, which seems to offer a little relief (well, for him....different story for my arm).

Oh, and I should also mention that Ave had his first cold this week. The poor bubba has been slinging snot bombs left and right. The kid can't get a break these days.

It's been a fun week.

Despite how miserable he is, he's still just so unbelievably charming. I was letting him hang out in his swing this morning, mostly because it keeps him upright (meaning, it keeps his snot running down his face instead of stuck in his nose). He was just sitting there, all full of self-loathing and misery, sort of whimpering under his breath and staring into space.

"Hey you! Why the long face?"

And I swear, he turned, looked at me, relaxed his eyes, and slowly gave me this sly, wide-mouthed, gummy grin, like he was McDreamy or something.

What a flirt.