Fighter

It took a miracle for me to blog again.

A 2 year old miracle.

 2 years ago today this little man came into this world like a fighter.  We didn't find out he was born until a week later and I didn't receive permission to visit him until February 17th.  The picture above, with the purple binky, is the first time I saw him, at 3 weeks and about 2lbs.

We decided his name would be Judah and we prayed every day that he would fight like the Lion of Judah.

We took his picture each week with his giraffe.

And fight you did, little man.  You fought with everything you had, backed by the prayers of so many, MANY people, some of whom I don't even know.

 And then we finally got to bring you home in your apparently giant sized carseat complete with booger sucker outer.

 Still so very tiny and, I'm sorry to say, terrifying.  You did EVERYTHING you could to go back to the hospital...and you got your way.  Fighter.  Such a fighter.

 When you came back home, you got to have all sorts of monitors.  And really big, kissable cheeks.  I'm surprised you don't have permanent Mommy prints all over your face.  Seriously.  I want to kiss this picture.

At 6 months old you finally weighed about 7 lbs.  Are you sensing a theme here?  Fighter.  

And then when you were 13 months old, you figured out how to stand up.  Then crawl.  Then Climb.  Then run.  Oh...and walk.

 Such a fighter.  You see, when the caseworker called me, she said we probably wouldn't want to get involved because you only had a 50% chance to survive.  The doctors all told me to be prepared for a life time of difficulties for you.  Other Mom's of special needs babies kept it real and prepared me for surgeries and long hospital stays and life long struggles.  We were told you might not eat real food.  That you would have heart problems.  Learning difficulties.  And on and on and on.

Fighter.  You sure showed them.

Your 2nd Easter.  15 months old.

 When you were 16 months old, we found out that we get to keep you forever and ever.  You are mine, true, but if I were to be completely honest here, it's more like I'm yours.  Forever.  My heart is bound to you.  My forever joy.  My fighter.

 Today, at 2 years old.  You jabber non-stop.  Your first sentence was "shake yo booty".  (Thanks, Miles)  You eat more food than the twins do combined.  Your laugh is the most hilarious thing I've ever heard.  You are LOUD.  So very loud.  You are spoiled (how could you not be?).  You climb up everything.  You have no fear.  I never know where I am going to find you, either on top of the table or couch or sink or in the empty tub.  You know how to flush the toilet.  You, for some reason, love the taste of dog food.  You are stubborn.  You are wonderful.  You are my snuggle bug.  You love "choo woos" (trains) and balls.  If a song comes on, you start dancing.

You love the water.  You like to terrify ME when we go swimming.

You weigh a whopping 23 pounds.  You still wear size 12 month clothes.  I'm debating on cutting your hair.  You won't let go of your binky and you sleep with your favorite puppy.


Little boy, I love you more than words can say.  My heart hurts a little when I think how fast the last 2 years have gone.  Before I know it, you will be driving a real jeep (hopefully not a pink one) and taking on the world.  I have big prayers for you, Judah.  God didn't bring you this far to not expect big things from you.  I can't wait to see how those plans unfold.