Perfect

I'm so relieved to be able to tell you that we finally got the results of Coco's second newborn screening and, in the words of her pediatrician, "it came back perfect."

I was pretty sure it was going to be okay, but I was still flooded with relief when I heard the voice mail her doctor left me. 

Three different friends of mine have recently had serious health issues come up for them or one of their children and in addition to my anxiety for them, it has been an unsettling reminder of how easily my priorities get skewed. Because if someone you love is sick, if a member of your family is struggling with a life-threatening illness, then truly nothing else matters. 

I hope that one way I have created meaning from Eliza's loss is by valuing even more highly the people I love. I don't want to take this life for granted. 

Tonight, I'm snuggling my youngest daughter close (David drew the short straw and is attempting bedtime for Zuzu--wish him luck!) and I'm feeling overwhelmed by our good fortune. Her test didn't have to come back perfect. It could have gone another way. Life can blindside you with bad news. And I can't help but think that another family somewhere got another phone call today and they heard the news they were dreading, or information they were never expecting, instead of the result they were hoping for. 

I keep thinking about a young Amish couple I saw when I took Colette to the hospital for her second test. The mom was carrying their baby in her arms. The dad was pulling the baby's oxygen tank. I think about that family, in the city, out of their comfort zone, away from the familiarity of their home and their way of life, doing whatever it takes to make their baby healthy. I think about how our lifestyles may be so different, but we share the same fierce love for our babies and the same unspeakable fear that we could lose them. My heart goes out to anyone who has a sick baby--I can all too easily imagine the helplessness and heartache of witnessing your child struggle with health issues you cannot fix, no matter how desperately you bargain with the universe.

I always have a long lists of wishes and wants and worries. But tonight I'm reminded that there are really only two things on that list: let us be healthy and safe from harm.

I will welcome a six to eight hour stretch of sleep again at some point, but tonight I'm just so grateful that she's here and healthy.