Have you ever had a moment in your life when you felt like
you were being transformed? Give me a moment. I have, and actually, and as I type
this I feel like the process isn’t over yet.
Warning: Long Post
ahead…
On the morning of Wednesday, February 22, my phone beeped
early, it was a text from my youngest sister Maelyn. Can you call me please? It was still before 6 a.m. and while not,
middle-of-the-night scary text, still her message sent me out of bed immediately,
so I could call her. Instantly my mind
races to “what happened?” On the phone
Maelyn was at work, but told me about her friend Heather’s sister,
Carrie who like us, was pregnant and had her water spontaneously break at 22
weeks. While we were just a few days
past that when my water broke with Noah, upon hearing the words coming through
the phone from my sister’s voice, my heart instantly felt connected to what they were living in that moment. Maelyn asked, “Angie, would you be willing to
talk with them, if they have questions? If it’s too hard, you don’t have to.” The answer was easy, of course I would talk
with them. MaeLyn said she’s pass along
my number and if they wanted to talk they could reach out. I prayed right away that they would call, my
mind could see them sitting in labor and delivery having some of the same difficult conversations we had all while worrying about our precious babies inside.
In what I personally believe is miracle 1 of many in this
story, when Carrie’s water broke, she did not begin having contractions. They raced to the local hospital, a relatively
small, regional hospital, in their community where the doctors assessed her and
gave them their options. The options were nothing a parent wants to hear. The reality is when your water breaks at less than 24
weeks (or some even later) the statistics stacked against you are mountainous
to say the least.
I went on about my morning but was completely distracted and
had a very hard time concentrating even as I drove the kids around. After dropping the kids at school, I saw my phone
had a message from Carrie’s sister kindly asking me if I’d be okay talking to
them; her wanting to be so considerate of my feelings. I honestly never thought
twice, my answer was always. Yes, please let me talk with them. And if I could have gotten in a car to drive
to them in person, I would have. I continued on my
morning running a few more errands and then had to stop by a good friend’s
house. As I was leaving her
house, standing in her driveway, my phone rang.
It wasn’t until I looked down the last time it vibrated and realized the
unrecognizable number on my phone might be them. I hit the button to answer but I
missed their call. I got Madelyn in the
car, crawled in myself and started driving.
I hit the button to call them back and only after 1 ring a soft, gentle
and kind voice came through my phone.
She introduced herself, as Carrie. I tried to hold back my tears. In that exact moment, I felt my
heart connect to hers and a moment later, her husband Troy.
I barely got out of my friend's neighborhood and decided to
pull over in the grocery store parking lot.
I listened and held onto every word as they shared with me what had
happened. Carrie, I could tell was
trying to hold back tears, and whether they could tell it or not, tears were
streaming down my face. I fed Madelyn
who was hungry, in the back seat of the car., I cried and wished they were not having to go through an almost similar
scenario we had lived a year and a half earlier.
I wish I could recall the exact transcript of our conversation,
and even though I can’t, it will be a call I’ll never forget in my whole
life. We talked about the fact that even
though the waters were broken, she wasn’t in labor, that the baby still had some
fluid and that she was showing no signs of being anywhere near delivering. Very good news. That being said, the doctors in her hometown
had told them their options were to go home and wait until the following Tuesday, til she was
23 weeks and then they could go to a hospital a few hours away and have a
consultation but
that before 23 weeks there wasn’t much they could do. I’m sure there are more details I’m leaving
out (again, just going from my memory and I’m purposely leaving out some
because it is their story). After
hearing the details they were sharing with me, I felt very strongly that they
needed to consider another option.
Since Noah passed I find myself spending hours researching NICU’s,
other families stories and from my studies, I knew that the University of Iowa
Hospitals and Clinics ranked 23 nationally for NICU’s.
I immediately thought, instead of going home and waiting, she needed to
get to Iowa City to the hospital there and to be admitted to antepartum, to
rest, wait and be monitored, pushing off labor for as long as possible. I remember telling them, “I don’t want to
tell you what to do, but don’t give up hope.
If I were you, I’d get transported to Iowa City, get into antepartum and
talk with the doctors there.“ We talked
a bit longer, them asking me about my experience with Noah, about what happened
when my water broke, how I spent a week in antepartum and how the NICU
experience was. With each question that
was asked, I knew the one questions that follows every talk with another NICU
family was coming. Troy said, “How is Noah
doing today?”
I’ve volunteered to help with activities related to our NICU parent board since July 2015 as I truly
feel a connection to that place. It’s the
only “home” my son knew. The incredible nurses and doctors there
treated us like family and while the hardest time of my life happened in that unit, it is a place
that will always be dear to me. I’ve
volunteered to be a part of a few events, and each time I talk with current
parents of the NICU I always feel a bit awkward. I represent the
outcome no one wants. The worst case
scenario, yes that’s the perspective I can share. And while there is so much more to our story
than just the fact that Noah didn’t get
to come home, it is often what parents hear and they are done talking to
me. I get it, I completely understand. I wouldn’t want to talk to me if I was in the NICU either.
Hearing Troy ask the question I can always anticipate but
struggle to answer, I paused and I said, “Well, actually, our Noah passed away
after 12 days in the NICU. But Troy if
you ask me, they were the best 12 days of my life, and I’d do the same
thing all over again, if it meant I got to have him for even that short amount
of time.” I stopped, and waited for the
silence at the other end of the line.
Instead I heard encouraging words, outpouring of love and
compassion. In the midst of the scariest
time in their lives they offered love and support to me. Just a testament to the two incredible people
I met 125 days ago today.
Carrie and Troy thanked me for the time, I told them I was
going to call some of my friends (from the NICU and antepartum) and get their
advice. I did and soon reported back
with similar advice… get to the best hospital you can, make sure you are
admitted and the baby is monitored, administer the steroid and stave off labor
as long as possible. We exchanged texts
back and forth and I prayed for them with the difficult decision they had to
make and for their precious baby.
A soon time later my
phone, held in my hand constantly to
make sure I didn’t miss anything, beeped.
It was from Carrie, “You are a blessing.
That’s what we’ve asked for. They
are calling Iowa City right now and if they will take me, I will be transported
by ambulance.” Tears streamed down my
face. They had made the decision I had hoped.
We continued to exchange texts that afternoon and with each beep of my phone, I read messages that confirmed for me, indeed they were in a good place. Little did I know, I had just met a couple that would allow me to go on this journey with them, their baby and their family. It was the beginning of something so moving, I can only think this was God's plan all along.
Carrie got situated at the hospital and had consults with lots of doctors. I told her and Troy they could contact me anytime day or night. There are things that happen to one's body after their water breaks that are scary, and I wanted her to know she could ask me anything. I'm glad she did. We talked about things that most best friends of 15 years don't necessarily talk about. I'd text her in the middle of the night and sometimes she'd text me. With each message, it was like another heart string grew across the miles.
Soon we learned that she was having a baby boy, another connection, a similarity. Her third son. My third son each deciding to come early, at almost the same number of weeks, by unexplained PROM (premature rupture of membranes). For over a week, Carrie and I exchanged messages, I'd send her quotes of hope, of continuing to hold of faith and she would report back with updates. Baby boy was doing well. She was comfortable. Family was able to visit. With each day, although still so filled with worry, fear and concern, I could see she was willing to do everything and anything it took, to keep her baby inside. I again knew exactly how she felt.
We were destined to leave on our cruise on the weekend right before she turned 24 weeks, and with Jarrett's help we arranged our cell phone plan so that I would be able to have coverage to talk with them no matter where we were on the ocean. For the first time in my life since losing Noah, I found myself waking up, thinking of Noah and then immediately turning my thoughts to wondering how they were doing. Instead of feeling the grief and sadness that often accompanies me in my morning routine, I would think of them, and pray that their little boy would defy all the odds. I prayed each moment I could that God would watch over them, that he would keep their son safe and that when their baby's time came to be born that he would be healthy, strong and mostly... that he would be able to stay with them, in their arms... for a lifetime.
On Saturday morning, March 4th we boarded our plane to fly to Florida and I checked in with them one last time. Their report was that things were going well and they were planning a relaxing day with some family visitors. So happy that things had been going well, I boarded the plane and starting thinking about vacation.
When we landed, I turned on my phone and the first message that appeared on my phone was from Troy. It read, "Knox Myron is here. Doc team has him and working their magic..." It took me a moment to put the pieces together. Wait, I thought everything was fine. What had happened in the 3.5 hour flight? Oh my goodness my heart sank. I counted the days again in my mind. 23 weeks 5 days. Immediately I started praying and texted them back feverishly. While I walked through the Orlando International Airport carrying my bags and keeping my family together, every part of my mind was in that hospital NICU and recovery room back at the UIHC.
Knox Myron had made his debut at 1 pound, 3 ounces and was 11 inches long. Almost the same size as Noah. With each update I was taken back to every single moment we had in the NICU. I could almost picture every test performed, I could hear the beeping of the machines in my mind and I could feel the overwhelming feelings that beginning a journey in the NICU brings. My heart ached for them, my heart burst with joy that their son had been born, he had survived the delivery and my heart poured compassion for I knew they had just come to a fork in the road where their time in antepartum had ended, but their new journey of the NICU had just begun. A journey not for the faint of heart, but one for the faithful heart.
My biggest piece of advice was what one of the NICU staff had shared with us on our first trip up to see Noah in the NICU. She said, the NICU is a series of many baby steps. It will be a journey of two steps forward, one step back. It's a roller coaster so be prepared. I knew now what she had meant and I wanted them to be prepared too. One step at a time is my mantra for the NICU... one baby step at at a time.
And that is exactly how Carrie and Troy and their precious miracle Knox have taken this journey they were forced upon. Every moment I could, I would check in with them, and they would so kindly share updates with me. The first picture, I had remembered how tiny a 24 week old looks, so when Troy held his hand next to Knox and sent it, I knew that while he looked tiny in the picture it was not even a true reflection of exactly how small he really was in person. The first few hours of Knox's life were scary, touch and go, and then it turned to the first few days of praying for positive news with each update. At almost 10 days old, Knox had a rough day and I could tell from the texts that the uncertainty and reports were overwhelming. I asked Carrie if she wanted to talk on the phone and I called. It was the first time we spoke on the phone since Knox had been born. She gave me an update, we talked about his lungs and how at that age it was so hard because they were just so tiny. With both of us crying on each ends of the line she asked me about when Noah took a turn and about his final hours. I hated having to share the details but I told her to keep holding onto faith. Then, through her tears she said, "Angie, I don't want him to die." Writing this now, my heart hurts and tears stream down. I wanted to reach through the phone, wrap my arms around her and reassure her everything was going to be okay. And yet, I knew nothing in the NICU is guaranteed, especially when they are still so little. I don't think I slept very much that night, I just prayed to God over and over, and asked him to make Knox better, to let him stay here. I negotiated with God... God you have Noah, please don't take Knox from them. Please don't.
Knox got better. Another answered prayer, And then another answered prayer, he opened his eyes. His PDA valve was closed, the valve that is almost always open in micropremie babies was closed. Another step forward. And among the steps forward, there were as promised steps back. He got an infection. He needed steroid treatments to strengthen his lungs. And then, more steps forward. He was getting nourishing milk from his mom. He was growing, weight was being put on. And slowly, slowly but surely, he started to gain strength in his lungs. His vent settings were lowered, and the steroid treatments were stopped. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. He doubled his weight, he passed his hearing test, his vision test looked good, his lungs were getting stronger.
And with each baby step update, my heart and love for Knox, for their family grew. Each day I'd check in with them. They'd send an update of what the doctors had to say, and pictures of their precious baby. I'd respond with notes of encouragement, he honestly was defying the odds each and everyday. I was and continue to be so grateful that they were allowing me to journey down this path with them. I sent prayers and we exchanged updates, and then I got to tell them I was coming back to Iowa and asked if they might have time to finally meet in person. I was so excited.
On Thursday, May 4, Knox's 2 month birth-date, I walked into the UIHC hospital feeling like I was meeting lifelong friends. The reality was, we had never met and were complete strangers less than 10 weeks ago. The entire drive to the hospital, I told myself not to cry. The moment they walked out the doors of the NICU, the pep talk I had given myself went out the window. The tears flowed like a river. Our hearts' emotions were too strong to hold back. They allowed me to go back and to meet their precious Knox.
It was a moment that transformed me and I could physically feel the love in my heart expand seeing Knox in person. I find it hard to express in words just how much Knox and his family mean to me. Walking into that room, I felt love like I felt looking in at Noah for the first time. Seeing Knox and getting to hold his precious hand, I knew in my heart he was brought here to do many incredible things. For without even leaving the NICU, he had changed my life.
I could have stayed and visited with Carrie, Troy and Knox for the entire time of my stay back in Iowa and the words they shared with me are some of the most treasured conversations I have had. Troy has been keeping a journal of this time in their lives and amidst great bible verses, notes on Knox's progress and his feelings, he showed me one of the comments in his first entry. In it as he talked about blessings, he listed my name. I cried. Not only because I am deeply touched by how they feel, but more so, because I feel like I'm the one whose been so blessed by them.
It has been 125 days since that early morning text from MaeLyn and in those 125 days I've talked to two people at least one a day, every single day. And those two people are Carrie and Troy. It's honestly a part of my daily routine and I don't feel like I can really begin my day until I know how baby Knox is doing.
I'm so happy to share that as of today, June 27, 2017 Knox Myron is doing exceptionally well. He is almost 9 pounds, his oxygen levels are moving closer and closer to being on room air only. He has passed every test they give him with flying colors and he's now able to breastfeed like a champ-he did that from day 1 of trying too! He is the most adorable baby with eyes that will melt everyone's heart and he is simply put... a living miracle. Sixteen weeks ago he was born and today is his due date.
I couldn't help but think about and reflect upon the last 125 days that I've been privileged enough to know the Tysdahl's and to be a part of #TeamKnox. In the last 125 days I have felt myself grow and change in yet another way I didn't know was possible.
Being Noah's mother is something I will always be proud of, and something I will cherish forever. Noah's legacy to me is about spreading kindness and I find joy in seeing how much better the world can be because of kindness shared in his memory. That being said, as happy as Noah's Kindness Project makes me, and as healing as it is to perform kindness in his honor, I never thought I would ever be able to accept that a lesson came from losing him. I never thought I'd be able to understand why losing him would be something I'd come to find blessings from. Don't get me wrong, I wish more than anything he was here. It would be my greatest wish.
But in the last 125 days I've found myself transformed. Being a part of Knox's life and his family's journey has allowed my heart to heal, to find joy and to celebrate love in a new way. I look at the pictures of Knox shared with me and I smile from my deepest insides that I am able to love and care about this baby and this family in a way I would have never been able to connect with, if it wasn't for Noah. If it wasn't for the journey we've been on, I would have never met Carrie, or Troy or Knox, their whole family. I look at Knox and I see hope for the future, I see that God does answer prayers, that miracles happen and those miracles get to stay around for a lifetime. I see God's lessons unfolding in ways I never dreamed possible.
I look at Knox and give thanks in a way I feel God has spoken to me by showing me Noah's life had yet another purpose. How proud that makes me as his mom.
This past June 13 was really a hard day for me. As much as I tried to smile and give thanks that I was lucky enough to have Noah in my life, I couldn't stop feeling so sad that he wasn't here to celebrate his second birthday. The sadness overwhelming as I pictured what I wanted for his second birthday. His party, his smile, the cake he would have loved. All the dreams I hoped for, the dreams that only unfold in my mind. I fought back tears all morning, and then at lunch my phone rang. It was a face-time call from Carrie. I answered hoping everything was okay and she and Troy were seated on a bench in the ped mall in Iowa City with their big boys. We chatted for a moment and then she said, "There's something we want to ask you." I said okay. And she paused, then said, "We were wondering if you would be Knox's God Mother?" I burst into tears and the words wouldn't come out. Even now I can hardly type as the tears fill my eyes. I shook my head yes and tried to convey just how much their question means to me. I am so honored that they thought of me and asked me to be in Knox's life forever.
In Knox's life forever. I get to be a part of his life for this lifetime. I get to share in the joys, the challenges, the ups and the downs. I get to witness God's plan for Knox unfold as he grows and he thrives and as he changes the world by his presence. I am so deeply honored to be asked and I can't thank Carrie and Troy enough for sharing their baby boy with me.
When I picked up the phone on February 22 I had no idea I was going to begin experiencing another transforming moment in my life. In the past 125 days I've relived our NICU experience with Noah over and over, I've traveled alongside Carrie, Troy, Knox and their family as they've had many hard days, celebrated victories and trusted God that even though they didn't know what the future would hold, that their faith in God and his plan would carry them through. I have seen my faith be restored, I have found deep admiration in their strength, their courage and their sincerity.
While my heart will always ache the loss of Noah, I am continuously reminded that because of him my life has been so blessed. His mark on this world shines through even though he's been gone for 2 years now. I see joy again in the world and I feel love that restores my soul. In thinking about Knox and his journey, I thank God for connecting us. I thank Carrie and Troy for opening up their lives and for letting me be a part of such a happy miracle story. They didn't have to share updates with me daily about their baby, I'm sure it was hard having me (a reminder of the worst case scenario) text them daily with questions. They didn't have to invite me to visit their baby and to meet them in the NICU. And they most certainly didn't have to gift me with such an incredible, life lasting gift.
Carrie and Troy, I don't know if I'll ever be able to truly convey just how much you letting me be a part of your lives has meant. You've pulled me along on this journey, you've replaced a piece of my heart that felt prisoned by grief and you restored it with love. You opened your lives and let me be a part. You let me love your son,your family, and I'll never stop giving thanks for that.
Knox, on this 27th day of June, the date you were expected to make your debut, I can't help but think just how far you've come. Knox you've taught us, so many lessons and you've shown us over and over and over to never give up, to always have faith and to share love as widely and as often as we can.
Happy 16 weeks, happy due date precious boy. I send my love and prayers to you, your mommy, daddy and your two big brothers.
So proud to be a part of #teamKnoxforever!
Until next time,
Angie.
We continued to exchange texts that afternoon and with each beep of my phone, I read messages that confirmed for me, indeed they were in a good place. Little did I know, I had just met a couple that would allow me to go on this journey with them, their baby and their family. It was the beginning of something so moving, I can only think this was God's plan all along.
Carrie got situated at the hospital and had consults with lots of doctors. I told her and Troy they could contact me anytime day or night. There are things that happen to one's body after their water breaks that are scary, and I wanted her to know she could ask me anything. I'm glad she did. We talked about things that most best friends of 15 years don't necessarily talk about. I'd text her in the middle of the night and sometimes she'd text me. With each message, it was like another heart string grew across the miles.
Soon we learned that she was having a baby boy, another connection, a similarity. Her third son. My third son each deciding to come early, at almost the same number of weeks, by unexplained PROM (premature rupture of membranes). For over a week, Carrie and I exchanged messages, I'd send her quotes of hope, of continuing to hold of faith and she would report back with updates. Baby boy was doing well. She was comfortable. Family was able to visit. With each day, although still so filled with worry, fear and concern, I could see she was willing to do everything and anything it took, to keep her baby inside. I again knew exactly how she felt.
We were destined to leave on our cruise on the weekend right before she turned 24 weeks, and with Jarrett's help we arranged our cell phone plan so that I would be able to have coverage to talk with them no matter where we were on the ocean. For the first time in my life since losing Noah, I found myself waking up, thinking of Noah and then immediately turning my thoughts to wondering how they were doing. Instead of feeling the grief and sadness that often accompanies me in my morning routine, I would think of them, and pray that their little boy would defy all the odds. I prayed each moment I could that God would watch over them, that he would keep their son safe and that when their baby's time came to be born that he would be healthy, strong and mostly... that he would be able to stay with them, in their arms... for a lifetime.
On Saturday morning, March 4th we boarded our plane to fly to Florida and I checked in with them one last time. Their report was that things were going well and they were planning a relaxing day with some family visitors. So happy that things had been going well, I boarded the plane and starting thinking about vacation.
When we landed, I turned on my phone and the first message that appeared on my phone was from Troy. It read, "Knox Myron is here. Doc team has him and working their magic..." It took me a moment to put the pieces together. Wait, I thought everything was fine. What had happened in the 3.5 hour flight? Oh my goodness my heart sank. I counted the days again in my mind. 23 weeks 5 days. Immediately I started praying and texted them back feverishly. While I walked through the Orlando International Airport carrying my bags and keeping my family together, every part of my mind was in that hospital NICU and recovery room back at the UIHC.
 |
| The first picture of amazing Knox |
 | |||
| Carrie meeting Knox for the first time. |
 |
| Love |
And that is exactly how Carrie and Troy and their precious miracle Knox have taken this journey they were forced upon. Every moment I could, I would check in with them, and they would so kindly share updates with me. The first picture, I had remembered how tiny a 24 week old looks, so when Troy held his hand next to Knox and sent it, I knew that while he looked tiny in the picture it was not even a true reflection of exactly how small he really was in person. The first few hours of Knox's life were scary, touch and go, and then it turned to the first few days of praying for positive news with each update. At almost 10 days old, Knox had a rough day and I could tell from the texts that the uncertainty and reports were overwhelming. I asked Carrie if she wanted to talk on the phone and I called. It was the first time we spoke on the phone since Knox had been born. She gave me an update, we talked about his lungs and how at that age it was so hard because they were just so tiny. With both of us crying on each ends of the line she asked me about when Noah took a turn and about his final hours. I hated having to share the details but I told her to keep holding onto faith. Then, through her tears she said, "Angie, I don't want him to die." Writing this now, my heart hurts and tears stream down. I wanted to reach through the phone, wrap my arms around her and reassure her everything was going to be okay. And yet, I knew nothing in the NICU is guaranteed, especially when they are still so little. I don't think I slept very much that night, I just prayed to God over and over, and asked him to make Knox better, to let him stay here. I negotiated with God... God you have Noah, please don't take Knox from them. Please don't.
Knox got better. Another answered prayer, And then another answered prayer, he opened his eyes. His PDA valve was closed, the valve that is almost always open in micropremie babies was closed. Another step forward. And among the steps forward, there were as promised steps back. He got an infection. He needed steroid treatments to strengthen his lungs. And then, more steps forward. He was getting nourishing milk from his mom. He was growing, weight was being put on. And slowly, slowly but surely, he started to gain strength in his lungs. His vent settings were lowered, and the steroid treatments were stopped. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. He doubled his weight, he passed his hearing test, his vision test looked good, his lungs were getting stronger.
And with each baby step update, my heart and love for Knox, for their family grew. Each day I'd check in with them. They'd send an update of what the doctors had to say, and pictures of their precious baby. I'd respond with notes of encouragement, he honestly was defying the odds each and everyday. I was and continue to be so grateful that they were allowing me to journey down this path with them. I sent prayers and we exchanged updates, and then I got to tell them I was coming back to Iowa and asked if they might have time to finally meet in person. I was so excited.
 |
| Such a special moment... |
 |
| followed by another incredible meeting. |
I could have stayed and visited with Carrie, Troy and Knox for the entire time of my stay back in Iowa and the words they shared with me are some of the most treasured conversations I have had. Troy has been keeping a journal of this time in their lives and amidst great bible verses, notes on Knox's progress and his feelings, he showed me one of the comments in his first entry. In it as he talked about blessings, he listed my name. I cried. Not only because I am deeply touched by how they feel, but more so, because I feel like I'm the one whose been so blessed by them.
I'm so happy to share that as of today, June 27, 2017 Knox Myron is doing exceptionally well. He is almost 9 pounds, his oxygen levels are moving closer and closer to being on room air only. He has passed every test they give him with flying colors and he's now able to breastfeed like a champ-he did that from day 1 of trying too! He is the most adorable baby with eyes that will melt everyone's heart and he is simply put... a living miracle. Sixteen weeks ago he was born and today is his due date.
I couldn't help but think about and reflect upon the last 125 days that I've been privileged enough to know the Tysdahl's and to be a part of #TeamKnox. In the last 125 days I have felt myself grow and change in yet another way I didn't know was possible.
Being Noah's mother is something I will always be proud of, and something I will cherish forever. Noah's legacy to me is about spreading kindness and I find joy in seeing how much better the world can be because of kindness shared in his memory. That being said, as happy as Noah's Kindness Project makes me, and as healing as it is to perform kindness in his honor, I never thought I would ever be able to accept that a lesson came from losing him. I never thought I'd be able to understand why losing him would be something I'd come to find blessings from. Don't get me wrong, I wish more than anything he was here. It would be my greatest wish.
But in the last 125 days I've found myself transformed. Being a part of Knox's life and his family's journey has allowed my heart to heal, to find joy and to celebrate love in a new way. I look at the pictures of Knox shared with me and I smile from my deepest insides that I am able to love and care about this baby and this family in a way I would have never been able to connect with, if it wasn't for Noah. If it wasn't for the journey we've been on, I would have never met Carrie, or Troy or Knox, their whole family. I look at Knox and I see hope for the future, I see that God does answer prayers, that miracles happen and those miracles get to stay around for a lifetime. I see God's lessons unfolding in ways I never dreamed possible.
I look at Knox and give thanks in a way I feel God has spoken to me by showing me Noah's life had yet another purpose. How proud that makes me as his mom.
This past June 13 was really a hard day for me. As much as I tried to smile and give thanks that I was lucky enough to have Noah in my life, I couldn't stop feeling so sad that he wasn't here to celebrate his second birthday. The sadness overwhelming as I pictured what I wanted for his second birthday. His party, his smile, the cake he would have loved. All the dreams I hoped for, the dreams that only unfold in my mind. I fought back tears all morning, and then at lunch my phone rang. It was a face-time call from Carrie. I answered hoping everything was okay and she and Troy were seated on a bench in the ped mall in Iowa City with their big boys. We chatted for a moment and then she said, "There's something we want to ask you." I said okay. And she paused, then said, "We were wondering if you would be Knox's God Mother?" I burst into tears and the words wouldn't come out. Even now I can hardly type as the tears fill my eyes. I shook my head yes and tried to convey just how much their question means to me. I am so honored that they thought of me and asked me to be in Knox's life forever.
In Knox's life forever. I get to be a part of his life for this lifetime. I get to share in the joys, the challenges, the ups and the downs. I get to witness God's plan for Knox unfold as he grows and he thrives and as he changes the world by his presence. I am so deeply honored to be asked and I can't thank Carrie and Troy enough for sharing their baby boy with me.
When I picked up the phone on February 22 I had no idea I was going to begin experiencing another transforming moment in my life. In the past 125 days I've relived our NICU experience with Noah over and over, I've traveled alongside Carrie, Troy, Knox and their family as they've had many hard days, celebrated victories and trusted God that even though they didn't know what the future would hold, that their faith in God and his plan would carry them through. I have seen my faith be restored, I have found deep admiration in their strength, their courage and their sincerity.
While my heart will always ache the loss of Noah, I am continuously reminded that because of him my life has been so blessed. His mark on this world shines through even though he's been gone for 2 years now. I see joy again in the world and I feel love that restores my soul. In thinking about Knox and his journey, I thank God for connecting us. I thank Carrie and Troy for opening up their lives and for letting me be a part of such a happy miracle story. They didn't have to share updates with me daily about their baby, I'm sure it was hard having me (a reminder of the worst case scenario) text them daily with questions. They didn't have to invite me to visit their baby and to meet them in the NICU. And they most certainly didn't have to gift me with such an incredible, life lasting gift.
Knox, on this 27th day of June, the date you were expected to make your debut, I can't help but think just how far you've come. Knox you've taught us, so many lessons and you've shown us over and over and over to never give up, to always have faith and to share love as widely and as often as we can.
Happy 16 weeks, happy due date precious boy. I send my love and prayers to you, your mommy, daddy and your two big brothers.
So proud to be a part of #teamKnoxforever!
Until next time,
Angie.
