Welcome Home Aiden.

Dear Aiden,

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.

our fighter

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.

seeing you for the first time

You’ve moved mountains little one.

You’ve shown me what it means to be strong.

just a few minutes old

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.

My miracle.

first time holding you

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.

the day after your first surgery

No one can believe how good you are doing.

I myself cannot believe I can look into your eyes and see my Aiden.

you this very moment

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.

you and evan sleep exactly the same way

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,

Mommy

I am not meant to handle this.

I don’t mean this post as a rant. I also hope that it doesn’t offend anyone but I have to be honest here. It is a place where the good, bad and ugly can come out.

While I use to have the luxury of editing and quietly writing these posts now they seem to come when my brain is over flowing and consuming itself and I need a place to let some of it to come out. They are usually raw, full of errors and at some points I am sure I am the only one that knows what I mean.

One thing you wont hear as a NICU parent is it gets easier. The absence of that advice is advice enough.

It doesn’t get easier, it gets harder. 

What you are told is one day at a time and at times that it too much.

That is where I am hanging right now. I am taking each day hours if not minutes at a time.

In this struggle I keep getting hit over the head with the sentiment, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.”

But I am telling you plain and simple He does.

No I am not dead, I am technically “handling” it but I can tell you right now this is more than I can handle.

I don’t understand how this is meant to be comforting.

How is this supposed to comfort people who have lost a child, lost a spouse, are going through divorce, loosing their home or even dying?
One night, a sleepless night, the night after Aiden’s surgery I cried out to God angry.

I wanted to know why God would have this as part of Aiden’s plan. How could this be the path for such a perfect innocent baby? It was bad enough that he and his brother were brought into this world far too early and have had to move mountains since their birth but to drag him to deaths door and make him fight his way to survival as a frail innocent child unleashed an anger in me that I can’t put words to.

As we sat in his room the days before his surgery, when he was almost guaranteed to die I just kept asking people, “why would God bring Aiden in this world only to live such a short life full of pain?”

The idea that God is giving AIDEN this, giving ME this, giving our FAMILY this because we can “handle” it infuriates me.

And I know that even if this is a part of a plan and God did choose this for Aiden and for us he would understand my anger as Aiden and Evan’s mom. I am their protector this is my job as their mother.

What I feel, what I WISH people would say is this isn’t yours alone to carry.

What I wish people would say is that you AREN’T strong enough to handle this, let God carry it for a while.

This may be part of a plan.

This may have be “given” to us.

But with 100% certainty this is more than any of us can handle. It is bigger than us.

Even if God did give this to us, we were chosen for this struggle, please don’t say it.

It does sound warm and comforting until you are the one wondering, “Oh, God why?”

I can tell you with certainty holding my son last night, a week with out food in his belly, 6 days out of his third major surgery, hooked up to monitors and tubes down his throat, wild eyed and crying out in frustration, pain and hunger rooting around at my chest instinctually begging me for food and then having to leave him was last night more than I could handle. 

The phrase, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle”, isn’t in the Bible.

Actually in the Bible time after time people are in fact faced with much more than they could handle.

What always rings true though is that even in the darkest hour God is there for us.

So please before you offer what we know ultimately is well meaning comfort know that we aren’t handling it because we aren’t meant to handle anything alone and that is ok.

trying to comfort aiden last night