, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


This weekend, on the fourth of July

while painting the trim in our bedroom,

I suddenly remembered:


that this is the weekend

that weekend

when, after months of lying in wait —

complete placenta previa running the show —

I decided to give in to my restlessness

and just paint a little trim

in our bedroom.

After all, it was just a little trim

and my doctor had not put me on bed rest – officially –

though I was surprised that she hadn’t.

But I got tired painting the trim — standing up even for an hour or two — so I went back to lying down.

And the next morning, as soon as I got out of bed: Whoosh!

The dam broke. Blood everywhere.

And I knew – we all knew – what was happening,

because we had been told that it would certainly happen:

The “big bleed” as it had been described.

I stood in the shower

and Jeremy dialed 911

and Jesse (who was only seven) appeared very brave

while the ambulance hurried me away

and Colleen came to get Jesse

and Jeremy drove to the hospital

sure that we were going to meet Dylan that day.

But lying down at the hospital, at 32-1/2 weeks,

I was told I should — and could — wait a little longer.

And so I did.

Two, nearly three more weeks, lying mostly on my back in a hospital bed —

until a planned C-section (with a full placenta previa in charge, there is no other way)

— and my miracle boy arrived, just 5 weeks early.

We were so relieved.

I woke up the next morning, on my birthday, remembering that Dylan’s birthday had been the day before.

He was well, he had arrived. And I smiled before falling back to sleep.

Dylan newborn

And that same week, Jeremy –

who had been diagnosed

with multiple sclerosis for 3 long years

underwent another MRI to see why he was improving.

His symptoms were disappearing,

and on this day, his brain scan was completely clear.

There were absolutely no lesions, no white spots

and the printout  of the scan said “normal brain.”

So we framed it and Jeremy put it on the dining room wall.

And the doctors said that it was likely ADEM rather than MS, but the most important, most fear-shattering fact is that there was another miracle boy in my life that month.

And I remembered all of this,

this weekend,

simply because

I was once again–

7 years later —

painting the bedroom trim.

Miracles do happen. Every day. These are two of mine.

And I’m grateful.