One magical, adventure filled, strong hearted year.
One year of red lips and pink nail beds. Of O2 stats at 99.
Gabe runs and plays hard. We've come to expect the look of disbelief when people see his scar poke out of his shirt and we tell them what it's from.
Sometimes I look at him and think, "Good Lord kid. you only have half your heart!"
How are you alive? How are you hugging me and talking to me in that little munchkin voice? How do I get to keep you?
I remember this moment.
The first time we saw him after doctors cut his chest and broke through his breast plate. When his eyes were so puffy he couldn't see and blood flowed through the tubes.
I remember his screaming in terror from the morphine induced nightmares and not being able to hold him. I remember telling him he couldn't have a drink as he begged for water. I remember hours that turned into days and honestly not having a clue if the sun was up or what day it was or when any of us ate last.
And then I remember watching my baby boy recover.
Beat every odd I had placed on us. He'll never walk that soon. He can't play or talk or eat.
But he did.
And even though it wasn't an ideal recovery and he hit setbacks and, God, was it scary, he did it.
Gabe did it.
I'll never forget the way those two weeks in the cardiac unit felt.
Every up and down. The desperation to be home and never wanting to not have nurses there to help. The frustration and anger and hope and peace.
I'll never forget watching Gabe come back to life.
Gabe's life was saved one year ago today.
And that's a day worth celebrating.
if you're a hlhs mom or know one, i'd absolutely love to connect with you. these kids are amazing.