"Levi is lucky he was born so early," said Levi's oldest brother the other day during bath time.
When taking care of my boys in assembly-line fashion, it is usually the first-born that tends to whine and wince over subtle setbacks. I explained to him that because Levi has experienced such difficulties in his two years of life, his tolerance is a bit higher than others. Thus, big brother Si thought Levi lucky. "Well, that's one way to look at it," I exclaimed. Then I went on to assure my son that we all face different hard things at different times, which all serve to make us stronger, and he was very lucky that he didn't have to be born so early.
Sometimes I think that Levi's G-tube serves as my own personal reminder of what we've been through these past couple of years. I'm starting to think in a very weird way that I don't mind it. I don't mind the therapy sessions and doctors appointments because it's nothing too critical at this point. Rather it keeps our family focused on something outside of ourselves.
That friend I visited a month ago just delivered her son at 26 weeks, and she and her husband simultaneously said good-bye to him the very next day. As my heart broke with them over such a loss, I couldn't help but rummage through some of Levi's things remembering his own battle to survive. That's when I was flooded with reminders of how miraculous his journey has been thus far. We could very well say farewell to any of our children at any point, but it's those bitter roads that teach us how sweetness really tastes. I see those families who have walked harder roads than us, yet they hold continual banners of hope in healing instead of complaints in daily crosses. I pray none of us forgets, but I also pray we don't need an eternal G-tube to remember what matters most.
I came across a photograph that was taken of Levi around four months of age. His favorite doctor and nurse decided to take him outside for the first time. Even though I didn't get to be a part of such a large milestone (and I'm told an illegal milestone), I was eternally grateful that he finally ventured out of the hospital because it meant he may actually come home one day. Home. No matter how many days we get at home together, I will cherish them. I think that's why I love this stage of tiresome tiny faces because they are all under our roof right now. Praise God for each face we get to see, even if for a day.
Levi's nutrition appointment was canceled due to his nutritionist going into labor a week early, but that means we have another week to grow! Thank you for prayers!
~Lucky Buster
When taking care of my boys in assembly-line fashion, it is usually the first-born that tends to whine and wince over subtle setbacks. I explained to him that because Levi has experienced such difficulties in his two years of life, his tolerance is a bit higher than others. Thus, big brother Si thought Levi lucky. "Well, that's one way to look at it," I exclaimed. Then I went on to assure my son that we all face different hard things at different times, which all serve to make us stronger, and he was very lucky that he didn't have to be born so early.
Sometimes I think that Levi's G-tube serves as my own personal reminder of what we've been through these past couple of years. I'm starting to think in a very weird way that I don't mind it. I don't mind the therapy sessions and doctors appointments because it's nothing too critical at this point. Rather it keeps our family focused on something outside of ourselves.
That friend I visited a month ago just delivered her son at 26 weeks, and she and her husband simultaneously said good-bye to him the very next day. As my heart broke with them over such a loss, I couldn't help but rummage through some of Levi's things remembering his own battle to survive. That's when I was flooded with reminders of how miraculous his journey has been thus far. We could very well say farewell to any of our children at any point, but it's those bitter roads that teach us how sweetness really tastes. I see those families who have walked harder roads than us, yet they hold continual banners of hope in healing instead of complaints in daily crosses. I pray none of us forgets, but I also pray we don't need an eternal G-tube to remember what matters most.
I came across a photograph that was taken of Levi around four months of age. His favorite doctor and nurse decided to take him outside for the first time. Even though I didn't get to be a part of such a large milestone (and I'm told an illegal milestone), I was eternally grateful that he finally ventured out of the hospital because it meant he may actually come home one day. Home. No matter how many days we get at home together, I will cherish them. I think that's why I love this stage of tiresome tiny faces because they are all under our roof right now. Praise God for each face we get to see, even if for a day.
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| I couldn't help but picture little Levi back in his incubator here in his bed. |
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| Annual Touch a truck day! |
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| He's grown so much since our first visit! |
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| Old school date night... |
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| at Chastain jazz festival. I love dancing under stars! |
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| Silas' preschool started! And the other two were anxious to partake! |
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| First organized gymnastics class started too! |
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| Monkey man loved it! |
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| And Levi loved the waiting room! |
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| We are wearing T-shirts now! No more onesies during the day! |
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| Check out my G tube! |
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| This man is all over the place now, so we have frequent dance parties during dinner prep! |
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| Some days I actually prefer running errands with these funny, crazy kids! |
Levi's nutrition appointment was canceled due to his nutritionist going into labor a week early, but that means we have another week to grow! Thank you for prayers!
~Lucky Buster
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