A few weeks ago, I posted on some friends of mine who had just given birth to a preemie. I originally posted that the baby was born at about 23 weeks. Fortunately, the baby was born at 25 weeks, still very early. They visited her as often as they could over the several weeks she was in the NICU, waiting to go home. I had a lot of empathy because my first child was a NICU baby. It becomes harder when, as for them, the NICU is almost two hours away, and they had an army of kids at home.
The joyous day came when they were able to take home their precious bundle, the miracle we'd all been praying for. It was still scary because it was flu season, not to mention it was in the middle of a pandemic. And there was the army of kids, all of who could bring something nasty from wherever they went.
Recently, they had to rush their precious little one to the hospital, even life flight her due to an infection. Whenever I see those red helicopters, my heart clenches for whatever family has a loved one there. I don't have any updates, but I know I would have heard if there had been negative developments.
Based on FaceBook posts, it would seem life is settling back to normal and that the baby is okay. I know what it is to lose a baby. I bonded with this mother over our mutual stories of being mothers to angels. Please continue to pray that the baby thrives. I know life can go south quickly, but I also believe in miracles. Let us continue to pray for theirs.
