I have started this letter many times. But I never finish it because I always choose to put the laptop away and hold you.
I breathe you in because once what feels like so long ago but at the same time just like yesterday I almost lost you.
You and I have always had a strong connection. I can’t explain it but I knew you before you were born. That is why we chose your name Aiden, it means little fighter or little warrior.
I knew you were a fighter, I never could have imagined the battles you would have to face. I knew your spirit and you my baby are strong.
You’ve moved mountains little one.
You’ve shown me what it means to be strong.
You gave me strength on my darkest days. You reminded me strength doesn’t come from what the statsitcs say. You showed me that percents don’t matter. You showed me the power of prayer. You tested and renewed my faith in God. You showed me the power of love.
You my baby, are a miracle.
Dr. Goodwin your surgeon said you made it because you had some angel squatters watching out for you up above.
The day you got sick in one of the few moments I got alone with you before surgery I prayed to those squatters.
My sister. I know she was there. I too was a twin Aiden. But my sister died at birth. I begged her to help you, to protect you, to do whatever she could so Evan didn’t have to miss you like I miss her.
I prayed to my little brother Adam who had been in the NICU and passed away to help comfort you through battles he sadly knew all too well.
The power of that prayer, all the people that were praying for you around the world, you family, the doctors and nurses and those angel squatters was tangible in that room.
No one can believe how good you are doing.
I myself cannot believe I can look into your eyes and see my Aiden.
I can see that spark. I recognize that little one that was in my belly.
I look at you now, laying in my lap, studying my face, my fingers as they type, smiling when I make a funny face.
This moment could have been lost, you were almost lost.
Your dad asked one thing the day we almost lost you, he down on his knees in our room in the NICU asked the angels to please not take you away.
I am so glad they chose for you to stay.
I am so glad you are mine. I am so glad you are ours.
You Aiden are my hero. I can only aspire to be as strong as you.
I am so proud of you.
When we took you home, I was depressed. While you were free of wires and monitors to me you were still tethered to diagnosis after diagnosis.
One of the last things a nurse practioner said to me that hurt my heart was, “you aren’t just bringing home a baby to feed, love and hold.”
It broke my heart a little. It felt like you went into the NICU a baby and came out a list of diagnosis, not a baby but a permanent patient.
But one day laying with you on the floor of your nursery I realized I had to remove your diagnosis from you.
Yes, you have appointments and medications but you aren’t Aiden PVL/NEC/LOW BIRTH WEIGHT/AUDITORY NUEROPATHY Teall like you were in the NICU.
You are Aiden Everett Teall. You love funny faces. You smile when you eat. You laugh at Humphrey our pug (he is pretty funny looking). Your obsessed with your binky. You would be held forever if you could. You have a funny, sweet, strong little personality.
You were brought home to feed, love and hold, you were brought home just a baby, just like your twin Evan and just like your older brother Noah.
You were brought home to be loved.
That is far better medicine than any doctor can offer.
And truthfully having you home has been the best medicine for our family, having you home is healing our battle wounds from the past 6 months.
So here we are Aiden.
I remember seeing you as a little jelly bean on an ultrasound swiggling around with your brother.
Now you are swiggling around on my lap with your brother.
You are still the fiesty one. You are just who I thought you would be.
You are who you were meant to be and I am blessed to be your mom.
You are my spirit to be strong little one.
Aiden Everett Teall, welcome home.
With so much love,