


Of course


Life isn't measured in breaths you take, but in moments that take your breath away...
Makenna sang. It was lovely. Grandma Max gave the Holy Ghost talk. They each got a blanket embroidered with their names on it to remember the Holy Ghost. Each received scriptures. Touchingly, Jack has my brother David's scriptures. Dave had received them for Christmas only months before he died. Jackson treasures them; he remembers David very vividly. I said to my dad that I hoped Dave got a furlough to be at the baptism today.
Aunt Sarah sent each of them towels with their names embroidered on them. It was a wonderful day of gifts, both of the spirit and of the temporal. John had never baptized before, and so the baptism of his son was that much more meaningful.
It's great to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My two old friends in my ward are now in the stake primary presidency, and they played the piano and led the music. How lucky to know and love everyone at an event. The dinner afterward was great---lovely cake and ham with buns. It was an important moment in all our lives: another day to be grateful to be in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.
It's Ash Wednesday today. Lent started this morning. Christ Evangelical Church (where my friend Tracy is the church secretary) is doing 40 days of prayer that correspond to Lent, and they sent this as their "thought of the day"---it goes along well with what I've been thinking/doing with my patriarchal blessing:
FEBRUARY 6
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me if you seek Me with all your heart."Jeremiah 29:11-13 (NIV translation)
The King James Translation
11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
12 Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you.
13 And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your cheart.
"I'll seek the Lord early while in my youth, and He will help me to know the truth. I'll search the scriptures and find Him there, then go to my Father in fervent prayer. I'll seek the Lord early and I'll obey His living prophets and all they say. I'll keep His commandments; His love will abound; I will seek the Lord early and He shall be found."
I couldn’t have imagined a full perinatalogy team all yellow-suited working to make my child breathe, how quickly one group of people could work together, or how quiet moments after birth could be. I had no idea that silence after delivery was deafening, frightening, and eerie. I didn’t know I would hold my own breath until my child took his.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I’d never suited up to enter a sterile center
I didn’t measure time in nursing rotations.
I didn’t admire neonatalogists, NICU-nurses, and grief therapists
I didn’t know that each hospital had a patient coordinator.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I didn’t know machines could be both beautiful and terrifying; that positive air pressure was a blessing, gavage feeding gentle, and kangaroo care healing.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I measured child development in weeks and months instead of hours and days. I didn’t worry that my child wouldn’t meet milestones; I simply waited for them. I had never worried that I would hear the word "blindness" or "cerebral palsy." I had no idea what it was like to wait to see how seriously my child would be impaired.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I thought that premature babies were simply tiny fighters, not a fragile future. I’d never measured time in the hospital as negative development time. I’d never feared a doctor’s visit, what he would say, or wondered if I’d ever take my baby home.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I didn’t know I’d need permission to touch, hold, feed, change, sing, and care for my own child. I didn’t realize that I could and would be denied simple actions performed by a qualified staff so that I wouldn’t injure my tiny baby. I didn’t know that bandages remove baby skin; IV’s have to be flushed and are painful; light has to be blocked but round-the-clock staff must still see; schedules are all-important, and each event recorded. Nothing is too small to note when your baby is in the NICU. It all matters.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I didn’t realize there was an entire level of medicine developed to provide for me and mine that I didn’t even know I’d ever need, or know that everyone there would want what I want for my baby.
Before I was a NICU-mom, I measured time in minutes, days, weeks, years; now I measure them in seconds, hours, days, weeks—each more precious than the last. I’ve learned to seize and savor those moments, because I was a NICU-mom.
Jillian Phippen
Remember this princess?
And this one?
When she went to church the first Sunday of the year, Sister Hamm was giving a lesson about tiaras, she was sure. She promised she wanted to wear her tiara ring ALL the time. "CTiara Ring." Delightful! Jack, of course, set her straight. It's a CTR ring, silly. CTR.
She likes tiara better, but she now calls it a CTR ring...