Counting blessings, not the aches

Continued...
By some miracle of fate, love and medicine, Maria was able to carry her son to the 28th week. The doctors were hoping for two or three extra weeks. They got six instead.

Each time I visited her at the hospital, Maria had a smile on her face.

“I'm staying as optimistic as possible. What else can I do?” she'd say. “Every day he stays inside is a blessing.”

Indeed.

Her son was born weighing about 3 pounds, bigger than most babies at that stage. He stayed in the NICU for 12 weeks.

Medically fragile, he was quarantined at home for almost 10 months — as was Maria, as his caregiver.

I have a hard time staying inside the house the whole day, but when Maria emerged from the fog of quarantine, she had the same smile on her face.

“He's doing really well, considering all that he's gone through,” she'd say.

And that remains true today.

Though medications remain a part of the daily routine, Maria is also busy making sure her second son isn't jumping off couches, walking off a high stairwell or attempting other age-inappropriate acrobatics. Sometimes, she has complained about being tired from chasing him all over the yard.

But, she has never complained about her time in isolation, the emergency bed rest, or the constant fear or worry with which she lived for the first year of her son's life.

As I write this, my son is at 28 weeks and getting heavier each day. To steal a line from Maria, every day he stays inside is a blessing, despite the aches and pains. End.

"Mothers should be given a reward. They hurdle the pain and suffering in order to make a better life for their children. I love my mom. I hope that I can return the favor she had done but I know I can't. If it is my turn to do the same with my children, I pray that I will be like her."