At this moment, Brian turns five.
I don’t know how it happened. It seems like yesterday I was fighting to keep him in a little longer, and here we are, five years later.
You see, Brian’s birthday should have been five days ago, at least if the doctors had their way. They were concerned for my health and wanted to deliver on December 12. I wanted to give my baby the best chance possible and managed to bargain with them to keep him in a little bit longer.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that I fight for Brian now, because I have been fighting for him since before he was born.
I poured myself a mimosa today in celebration of Brian turning five. After all, Matt and I deserve a pat on the back for making it this far. It hasn’t been an easy ride and there are times we have felt like the world was caving in, but we always managed to come out the other side. I’ve said it before and I will say it again…I know how lucky we are. Brian may not be able to eat, but I know there are millions of parents in far dire situations than ours. Still, that doesn’t minimize what we, or even more so, Brian, have gone through.
Think about it…
Brian is five today. To date he has had nine endoscopies, five colonoscopies, a feeding tube placed, four hospitalizations, numerous doctors, and more needle sticks than I can count. He has lived through what many won’t experience in a lifetime. He has been poked and prodded, scrutinized and studied, and still finds the ability to be happy.
There are things that help with his happiness factor, including playing with anything Cars, his family and friends and the chance to chase the dogs. After all, he is a little boy. He has more energy than should be possible, gives me heart attacks on a daily basis and jets through every possible emotion within a five minute time span.
He has bounced back from surgery in an astounding manner. Once he is released from the tube and pole, he dashes around like any normal five year old. That is what is so hard sometimes.
Brian is not a normal five year old. Odds are he won’t be a normal six, seven, eight or so on year old either. He has struggles, but he also has the strength to overcome them. He is joy and light all wrapped into one.
He is my baby…my five year old boy…and no matter how old he may be, I will not stop fighting for him and the hope that someday he may live as “normal” a life as possible.
So happy birthday to my sweet boy. I love you forever and ever.