“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.
Who am I kidding? THIS is my favorite view!
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!
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.
… 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.
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…
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
Raising Malachi 