Broken Seashells–A micropreemies first time to the beach.

“There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.” Ecclesiastes 3:1,4

I can hear daddy singing to you from down the hall, I hear your voice softly cooing, and my heart melts. I wake up and look to see you smiling in your bassinet beside me. Your smile lights up my entire world –it can make my mood or feelings instantly change for the better. There are so many days when I wake up feeling inadequate. I ask myself “am I doing enough?” …then I see your gummy smile, and it is like you are saying “Mommy—you are more than enough.” I love you Malachi. Being your mother is the greatest blessing I have ever been given. Many people see you, and at first glance you seem like any other child. You are adorable—with those big blue eye that make people delight over you. You smile with those dimples, and your entire face lights up. You are such a happy boy. They don’t see the struggles you have endured. They don’t see your strength and determination. But I see it Malachi. It is because of you that I see life in a whole new way—and I thank you for that. Daddy just said the other day…”sometimes I cry thinking about all that Malachi has had to go through.” And I agree—you are the strongest little boy I know. The physical therapist this week couldn’t get over how determined you are. Playing is hard for you. Laying on your stomach often makes you vomit, and sitting up sometimes makes you pant in your breathing, and feel short of breath. But it doesn’t stop you. The odds have always been against you. But somehow you always find a way to overcome. When the odds are one in a million—you always strive to be that one. You are my hero Malachi.

The gentle ocean breeze, the salty air…the sound of the waves crashing to the shore. There is nothing quite like this view. It might just be my favorite.

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Who am I kidding? THIS is my favorite view!

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If you had told me I was going to be on a beach with Malachi, smiling & enjoying life a few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed you. For a long time I often wondered if life was ever going to be joyful again. I didn’t know if I had the strength to emerge from my pain.   This week I laughed…I laughed to the point that I felt like my heart was lifted to the sky.   I smiled. I cried. I even had moments of doubt and fear. But through it all, I am thankful for this life I have been given with Malachi.

Malachi has to be very cautious when going out into public due to his early birth. His lungs are not as developed, and they sustained damage from being on the ventilator for the first 6 weeks of his life.  Until we can at least get through this first winter, we do not go grocery shopping, to church, or out in public for that matter, because we are protecting Malachi from germs. It takes time for the lungs to regenerate, and the doctors want us to be extremely cautious for the first two years of Malachi’s life. Even a “minor” cold could lead to a hospital stay, and flu or RSV could prove deadly. This is why I had such a hard time deciding if I was going to go to the beach with Malachi or not. But, I just couldn’t stand the idea of Malachi missing out on such an amazing opportunity—to hear the ocean, to feel the sand between his toes…

So what did we do?   We brought the disinfecting wipes and headed to the beach!   We were VERY cautious mind you. Malachi spent a lot of his time at the resort, but he also got the opportunity to get in the ocean for the very first time. It was amazing to see his face when the waves slipped over his little toes. He enjoyed sitting in the water, and he even took a long nap under the umbrella. This was the FIRST week we have had since being discharged from the hospital that we did not have a single appointment! Our physical therapist was on vacation, and somehow we managed to schedule all other appointments either before or after this particular week. We were able to focus on our family—and the love we have.   We had time to play, time to think & clear our minds. We were even able to go out to eat at a restaurant as a family for the first time. We called ahead and reserved a private room at the Sea Captains that was away from all other guests—and as a family we were able to enjoy each other’s presence. Here are a few pictures from our beach trip…I hope you enjoy!

Sleepy baby boy.
Sleepy baby boy.
Malachi enjoyed napping with mommy.  He is such a snuggle bunny.
Malachi enjoyed napping with mommy. He is such a snuggle bunny.
Tummy time pool side.  YES, we do therapy even on vacation.  :)
Tummy time pool side. YES, we do therapy even on vacation. 🙂
The pool wasn't my favorite.  But I am still precious.
The pool wasn’t my favorite. But I am still precious.
Just me and my mommy.
Just me and my mommy.
First night out for dinner at the Sea Captains.
First night out for dinner at the Sea Captains.
These blue eyes...
These blue eyes…
Toes in the sand.
Toes in the sand.
The waves are my favorite.
The waves are my favorite.

I wish I could give you an update on Malachi’s weight, but he hasn’t been weighed since his check up on June 30th. If I had to guess, I would say he is almost 14lbs, but that is just an estimate. The doctors do not seem concerned with his weight gain. Miracles that have been evident in Malachi’s life over the past few weeks include that the opening in his heart (Patent Ductus Arteriosis) has closed, and will NOT need surgical intervention. Praise God! Also, he had a good eye exam that proved that he can track with his eyes, and he no longer has ROP (Retinopathy of Prematurity). The doctor did say that he had cortical brain damage from his brain bleed that could very well effect his vision & ability to focus; but he can definitely see to some degree. In physical therapy we are still working on his ability to roll, grasping toys, finding his feet, and stretching his lower leg muscles—which are a little tight (hypertonia). Just this past week (at the beach actually) Malachi started taking toys and putting them in his mouth. I have noticed that he can focus longer and track toys better than ever before. Furthermore, he smiles much more frequently. In fact, if his tummy is not hurting, or he is not hungry or sleeping—he is most likely smiling. Malachi also started sleeping through the night (for the most part), which is such a blessing. When he is awake, mommy has him busy practicing rolling, and learning to grab toys. We have to take things slow, so that he can tolerate the activity without vomiting & panting in his breathing; but, we find creative ways to play.  I have learned that I can’t worry about the future.  All I have is the now; and right now I have to be strong for Malachi.  He needs me.  We need each other.

On our last day at the beach, we stopped by the ocean one last time to talk to Michael. We wrote his name in his sand, prayed, and just took some time to remember him.

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We always see Michael in the sun.  He was shinning bright that morning.
We always see Michael in the sun. He was shinning bright that morning.

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… as I walked towards the ocean that morning, all I could see were broken seashells surrounding me. Where are all the beautiful seashells, the ones that aren’t shattered into pieces? …I thought. But, then I realized the beauty that existed in the broken seashells around me.   I saw my own brokenness, and pain. For me, those broken shells represented unfulfilled dreams, emptiness, uncertainties…the loss of a child. Aren’t we all in a sense broken seashells that are battered by the waves of life, and the sand of time? We are searching for something to cling to. Searching for hope & truth in the midst of great chaos and disappointment.  Psalms 34:18 states “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those who spirits are crushed.”   Is your spirit crushed today? I know my spirit has been crushed, and if it wasn’t for the Lords peace and his holy spirit guiding me—I don’t know if I would have made it. Do I still fail daily? Certainly! But isn’t that the wonderful thing about grace? God’s grace is sufficient. In fact, the love of God is so vast & his mercies are new every morning—it is hard for our finite minds to even comprehend it. God sees the beauty within your brokenness, and he wants to provide you a net of safety. He longs to give you peace—to sustain you—to bind & heal your deep set wounds.

Psalms 55:22 Cast your burdens on the LORD, he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.

Psalms 147:3 He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

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The bottom line is—God’s grace is enough. No matter how I feel, or what the day holds. It is when we can truly let this sink into our hearts and minds that we are able to overcome great sadness & heal.

 “I’m planning to spend the rest of my life just happy that God loves me. That he has forgiven me. And that he has made me his own.”

-Judah Smith (Life Is Book)

I have two options—I can live my life as the broken shell that struggles to even get out of bed in the morning; or I can focus on the beauty that Christ sees in my brokenness—and strive to live each day just happy to be a part of HIS team. It is about changing my perspective & focusing on the prize—eternal life with my Lord & Savior. THAT is what life is all about.

When I left the ocean that day I wrote Michael’s name in the sand. I watched as the water washed his name away. Gone from sight, but never gone from my heart.  This is for you Michael…

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Dear Michael,

Please forgive me for going on with life without you. There is not a day that I do not think of you. I feel so conflicted. How do I let go of you—or at least the grief that I bear, and still hold onto you? I don’t know if I am ready to let that go. Every morning when I rise I think of you. I wonder what you would look like, how you would act. I wonder what your smile would look like…what your cry would sound like. I’m sorry I ever left your bedside. I hope you never felt alone. There is an unexplainable void that losing you left within me. There is a place in my heart that no one but you could ever fill. I miss you Michael. Some days are worse than others. Today is one of those hard days, where the pain stings like salt on an open wound. I just want to stroke your cheek, to feel your warmth on my chest. The vividness of your memory fades a little with every day; and I can’t stand it. I want to remember every part of you. The good and the bad. I will never forget the first time I saw you— you were there one moment, and in the next—you were on your way to the NICU. I had not named you yet, and when I saw your face I knew right away—yes, that is my Michael. I remember the day you opened your eyes for the first time. Those beady blue eyes met mine. I hope for an instant my presence calmed your every fear. I am sorry I spent more time at your brother’s bedside. Even if it wasn’t much more time, I regret not being with you every second. Your brother was so much sicker than you. I didn’t have time to let you go. I still struggle daily trying to let you go. Sometimes when I am holding your brother, I try to imagine that I am holding you…just one more time. Please know that I love you. Daddy loves you. Malachi loves you. Your grandparents & even people you have never met love you. My life is forever changed because of you.   Things that once seemed to matter…well, they just don’t matter anymore. I am so blessed to have known you; to have held you in my arms. No—it wasn’t enough, but in that moment—it was everything. I love you my sweet son. I love you Michael Scott Austin. Forever my baby you will be.

Love,

Mommy

Showing Malachi that life can be JOYFUL

“The more difficulties one has to encounter, within and without, the more significant and the higher in inspiration his life will be” –Horace Bushnell

The life challenges Malachi has faced have made him grow; they have made our entire family grow. These challenges have kept him alive. Malachi is an overcomer.

Each time I wake up and see his sweet face looking back at me, I am reminded of the miracle he truly is. Simple things like going outside and feeling the fresh air touch our faces, or rocking him on the porch outside, seem so monumental. For a long time I struggled to see past the next arterial blood gas, chest x-ray, or head ultrasound. There was a time when I held Malachi and thought it might be my last.   I just knew I couldn’t bear to lose another child. I would hold him—and try to remember ever piece of him—every smell…every crease on his hand.  Many tears have fallen on his precious face as I cried out to God to spare his life. Each venture outside, each new morning is something to be celebrated. Every day is a beautiful day to be alive.

First time holding Malachi.  He was on the oscillator-high frequency ventilator.
First time holding Malachi. He was on the oscillator-high frequency ventilator.

If Malachi could express how he has been spending his days, I am sure he would talk about the first time he placed his little toes on the plush grass outside, or the time he got in the pool at grandmas, and how he splashed the water with his legs & feet.  He might discuss his story times with mom, going for stroller rides in the neighborhood, or snuggles on the couch with dad. Malachi is learning that life can be fun. He is learning that there is LIFE outside of the NICU, and that life can be joyful.

Malachi snuggling with Daddy & Teddy.
Malachi snuggling with Daddy & Teddy.
First time getting in the pool at Grandma Stone's house.
First time getting in the pool at Grandma Stone’s house.

Each and every day I strive to show Malachi how truly important he is—that he is valuable—that he is LOVED.

We visit Duke Children’s Hospital for Malachi’s Neurological, Eye, & GI follow ups, and every time we go I see at least 5-10 children that are either wheelchair bound, or severely handicapped.   I am always amazed at how many smiles I see on these children’s faces. They are beautiful, loved, and perfect in their own unique ways. Unfortunately, nothing in life comes easy for them; and they will have to work hard in life to do things that most people take for granted. Does the value of these children diminish because they do not walk, or communicate as well as the child that is the star athlete? Are they any less important than the A honor roll student? Never. They are just as treasured, they are just as significant, and they are just as precious.

During my time in the NICU I have met several families that have been through similar journeys as ours. One lady in particular has greatly helped me in my passage towards embracing the unknown of Malachi’s life, and valuing him for who he is, and not what he will be. Her twin boys were bon at 24 weeks.  She writes in her blog:

“Our boys aren’t the micro preemie unicorns; the ones who have no lasting effects.  I sometimes think those kids are merely urban legends.  I used to be at a loss for words when people would share the tale of their second cousin’s grandson who weighed two pounds at birth and is now a strapping linebacker headed to Harvard. I know the folks meant well, but their story is not most families’ reality.  I now smile and say “how wonderful, but your cousin’s grandson is the exception to the rule.  Most micro preemies face more challenges and lingering effects from their prematurity. Our guys are doing phenomenal, but they still have lots of therapists, doctor visits, and challenges.  Other preemie friends face even more daily struggles. In any case, that’s ok. They are loved.  They are survivors.  They are valuable.”  I hope in my own small way, one person at a time I can change people’s views of prematurity and maybe even kids that are differently-abled.  That not every story has to end with the preemie unicorn.  That the kid who uses a wheelchair to get around or an iPad to communicate is just as valuable and awesome as the kid scoring the touch down or winning the spelling bee.  In the long run, most kids won’t grow up to be the president, the next Mother Theresa, Michael Jordan, or a musical superstar. What will matter in the long run is how we teach them to love.  Everyone can love and be loved.  That is what matters. “ (Etheridge, 2014 http://www.prayingforhisblessings.blogspot.com)

It is amazing the transformation just a couple weeks can make.   I remember sitting in the nursery rocking Malachi one day and crying out loud to God “Lord, you are going to have to reveal yourself to me” after feeling as though Malachi didn’t even know who I was.  He didn’t smile, he barely looked at me; and I was consumed in fear about his cognition.  It was not until 5 months (6 weeks corrected) that Malachi smiled, and then he began to track me—to respond to my voice & presence. He knew me!  At 8 weeks corrected he began to “coo” and baby talk.  Sometimes he seems to be having a full on conversation with me.  He bats at his toys, moves his little…well not so little anymore…arm & legs, as if he is jumping in excitement during play time. He amazes me every day.  It is as if I can feel God saying “I’ve got this Allison—be patient; I will reveal myself to you in my timing.”

“Nonviable,” “blindness,” “deafness,” “cerebral palsy,” and  “mental retardation”–terms that are often used to describe 23 weekers.  Many of these words were proclaimed over Malachi’s life.  Doctors suggested that it may be best not to monitor my babies, or perform medical intervention to save them.   The statistics for 23 week micro preemie survivors are discouraging. I was told his chance of survival was less than 20%, and that surviving micro preemies often live a life that is “less than quality.”  Malachi sustained a grade IV/III bilateral brain bleed.  The left side was worse than the right.  Malachi can definitely see—he is not deaf, and so far he is meeting his developmental milestones for his corrected age.  I am thankful that the doctors did give my babies a chance, and that my Malachi is living.  I am so grateful for modern medicine, and how far technology has come.  But, I also know that the doctors are not God.  God has the ultimate say over the quality of Malachi’s life and his level of independence.  There is power in prayer.

“Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.  He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.  Then they were glad that the waters were quiet, and he brought them to their desired haven.” Psalm 107: 28-30

We had our first physical therapy evaluation last week (at 9 weeks corrected), and the therapist was shocked with how good he was doing.  She said “I would have never known he had a grade four brain bleed; let alone that he was a 23 weeker.  Of course there are some things that Malachi will need help from physical therapy with.  Malachi tends to have more extension than flexion; and he has some mild tightness in his thigh muscles and trunk—this is a result of some mild spasticity. However, every day I work with Malachi in stretching his muscles, increasing his range of motion, and assisting him in meeting his milestones. In the upcoming weeks we are working with Malachi on learning how to roll over, how to grab and pull up his feet, and holding/playing with toys. He will have physical therapy once a week for 60 minutes. The area of Malachi’s brain that was damaged not only controls his motor skills, but it also controls language. —therefore, we are constantly talking, reading, and singing to our sweet boy to help him build language skills.  Our prayer is that the right side of the brain will take over the function of the injured areas of the left side of the brain. Brain tissue cannot regenerate, but the doctor’s state that many times with therapy the brain can form new connections and “rewire” itself in a sense.  We are praying for complete restoration of his brain.  We are trusting and believing that Malachi is taken care of.  We are grateful for the Grace that God provides; he loves us—and the promises & plan that he has over Malachi’s life cannot be thwarted.

“Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise” Hebrews 10:23

We also had a very long appointment at Duke with the early intervention specialists that included a 3 hour stay, and blood work.  The blood work revealed that his anemia of prematurity had greatly improved, and although his Calcium levels are still a little low (premature babies do not get that boost of Calcium and vitamin D in the third trimester)—they are improving, which is encouraging.  Once again—all the doctors and staff were blown away that Malachi was a 23 weeker.  Malachi is 2 ½ months corrected age, and developmentally he is doing everything at this point that he should be doing.   In fact, in some areas, such as head control—he is actually more advanced than a 2 month old. However, we are still very much aware that the future is still in large unknown at his point. But, I rejoice in ANY good news I can get. The doctor also did not hear a heart murmur—which is an indication that his open PDA in his heart may be closed.  He will have an echocardiogram next week—but we are praying it will be closed (so he won’t have to have heart surgery to close it).  Overall, I left the appointment feeling encouraged. I told the doctors—he is my miracle!  Before leaving, the doctor looked at me and said “keep doing what you are doing—you’re a great mom.”  I held my head high as I left—I love being Malachi’s mom; and I am so proud of him. Malachi has shown me that children are so resilient.  It is true when they say—you can never trust a preemie.  Malachi smiles at us—and you would never know all the pain and suffering he has had to endure.   And while we do not know exactly what deficits Malachi may or may not have—we know that with therapy, prayer, and faith in God nothing is impossible. He is already doing SO many things we were told he would never do. We no longer live “second by second” as we did in the NICU.  Instead, we have now learned to just take one day at a time.  We rejoice with Malachi with each success; and when we meet a bump in the road—we just keep on moving forward.   We stay busy with appointments, but my job as Malachi’s mom is to keep his daily routines as normal as possible.  I wake up each day with the hopes of making Malachi’s life joyful!

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Prayer Requests for Malachi:

  • Brain—pray that his 6 month follow up scan of his brain will be encouraging.  Pray that he meets his milestones, and that his shunt continues to work.
  • Spasticity—we pray that his spasticity will improve, and that it will not hinder his ability to walk in the future.  We pray he will not develop seizures.
  • Improved vision & tracking (appointment for vision is in the beginning of July).
  • Reflux & gas pains (as we are transitioning from breast milk to formula since my milk supply has dwindled).
  • Heart—that the PDA is closed.
  • Lungs—that he will not get short of breath with activity.
  • Bones—that they will strengthen and grow.
  • Cognition—Malachi is catching up in weight and height (12 lb 8oz), but his head size is a little small when compared to other babies his corrected age. Pray that his brain will grow properly, brain myelination will occur, and his brain will find ways to “rewire” itself.

My husband was asked during our interview with the Wilson Daily Times (http://www.wilsontimes.com/News/Local/Story/37251352—LOSS–HOPE-AND-JOY) “what do you hope for Malachi in the future? Jake, with tears in his eyes explained that he use to have dreams of having a son that was a great athlete, and involved in sports.  But, after losing a child you change your perspective.  He states “I just want Malachi to be that best Malachi he can be…I want him to know he is loved…I want him to live a life of hope & joy…I want him to be happy.” It is true—while we are amazed with the strides Malachi has been making—it is hard not to worry about the unknowns.  And that is ok; we know that ultimately God has a plan—and he is taking care of Malachi. We know that he is loved, and he is perfect to us.

Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7)