WARNING: The following post is long and wordy and rambling and full of tangents. But if you choose to proceed, you will be rewarded with a cute Hannah pic at the end. I promise.
If you know me well, you probably know that I am big on anniversaries. Not really wedding anniversaries, per say, but rather, random anniversaries. I often remember the exact dates when random things happen to me, both good and bad. The therapist in me tells me that I need to anticipate and prepare for the bad ones as much as the good ones so that I don't get caught off-guard. For example, for many years I had to prepare myself emotionally to face my triggers and memories of December 29, 2004--the day I literally caught my ex-husband "stepping out" on me. It was the worst, most traumatic day of my life--or so I thought, for many years. So I prepared fun and happy things to do on that date to take my mind off of the painful memories of the ultimate betrayal and shattered dreams. And it has worked for me for the most part. I still remember it all, but the memories don't consume and overwhelm me anymore.
Anyway, as I was saying, some remembered anniversaries are more random than others. I obviously will never forget the date that I confessed my like to Scott (July 23, 2007), but I also will never forget the date I arrived in Venezuela (April 14, 1998) or the date the lights went up in Wrigley Field (August 8, 1988) or the date I ended my job in Chicago (July 15, 2002). I'm weird like that.
And I am certain that I will never forget today's anniversary. January 9, 2011: The day 3-week-old Hannah stopped breathing and starting turning blue. It was totally traumatic, and Scott and I were in denial. We SO did not want to take Hannah back to the hospital. So much so that we tried to finish our dinner before we went to the emergency room. Silly us. But we made it there in plenty of time to get Hannah the help she needed. Yet I was an absolute mess. The entire first day that Hannah was back in the hospital, I cried non-stop. I was absolutely certain that my sweet baby was going to die. How could I have been so dumb to think that my dream-come-true was finally going to be real?, I asked myself. How could I have been so naive? I was convinced that Heavenly Father was sending me my hardest test yet and that he wanted my sweet, perfect, amazingly strong baby back with Him. Why wouldn't He, after all? She's absolutely divine. I just couldn't shake these thoughts and feelings no matter what anyone said. It was much, much scarier than the fleeting moments within the hour after Hannah's birth when Scott accidentally made me think Hannah had died. (Note to dads: Don't EVER tell your wife that your new baby has been admitted to the NICU for breathing problems and then, when she calls 10 minutes later to ask what's going on, only tell her that the doctor wants to talk to her in person--and then certainly DO NOT walk in before the doctor only to beeline it for your own mother while bursting into sobs. I was absolutely certain that my baby had died. But fortunately, that super sickening feeling only lasted a few seconds--just until the French doctor told me in person what was really going on with Hannah, so that I wouldn't misunderstand him and his accent over the phone.)
So, as I was saying, exactly one year ago I couldn't shake the feeling and thought that Hannah was going to die. And it was a terrible, horrible, empty, scary feeling. Way worse than walking in on what's-his-name. The loss of Hannah would have been absolutely devastating to me. And to Scott. And I will be eternally grateful to Heavenly Father for knowing that I couldn't handle that and for letting me keep Hannah. I thank Him every day for her. Several times. I wouldn't want Him to forget how much she means to me, you know.
Well, the funny thing about anniversaries is that the bad ones can morph into good ones. While January 9, 2011, was a scary, traumatic day for me, January 9, 2012, has been a day of hope and grateful reflection. Because hindsight is 20/20, I can now see how Hannah being admitted into the hospital was a huge blessing and a show of Heavenly Father's tender mercies. She needed to be hospitalized to get the air she desperately needed while the docs figured out what was wrong. So on this day, this year, instead of dwelling on the trauma that was, I am focusing on the joy that is--the joy that I find in our beautiful Christmas miracle baby who continues to be a miracle for us.
Just yesterday, many of our family members joined Scott and me in fasting and praying for Hannah to be able to improve her gross motor skills. She had been making some progress (crawled a few steps about 10 days ago but wouldn't do it again), and I could feel that she was on the verge of a breakthrough. But I needed the faith and prayers of many of you to make it happen. And it did, rather miraculously. Yesterday afternoon during church, Hannah was her usual, non-crawling self. But a few hours later, shortly after Scott and I broke our fast at his parents' house, Hannah began to crawl on her own. And she kept crawling. By her own free will. Miraculous. Sure, it's a funny-looking crawl that usually includes her using one knee and the other foot, but it's still crawling. And it is a very meaningful miracle for us. Scott and I thanked Heavenly Father for it last night. And we thanked Him for all of you. And for Hannah, of course.
But then this morning I was scared to let Hannah play on the floor. I was afraid that it was too good to be true and real. Maybe I was feeling triggered and doubtful due to the anniversary thing--I don't know. So I didn't really give Hannah the opportunity to crawl until after her morning nap. But then I knew I had to, so I set her on the floor. And I
let her go. And she crawled. And I might have bawled like a baby.
I just love when bad anniversaries become good ones. And I just love my baby. And my husband. And all of you. Thanks for maintaining hope and faith when I have wavered.
Happy Anniversary, Hannah! I absolutely love my funny-crawling baby!
And Happy late December 29th Anniversary to me too! Talk about a bad anniversary turned good. If it weren't for the heartache of that day, I wouldn't know the joy of today.
The promised pic:
We finally let Hannah try her first candy cane today (Spree-flavored), and she loved it. A lot. Gotta love those eyes!
She mostly enjoyed watching people and waving at them and also staring upside-down at the fascinating ceiling. I really wish I had gotten a pic of her cheering with her maraca.
Hannah also enjoyed hanging with some of our family and friends.
Although you can't tell from this face. Poor baby was tired. Or maybe she was just upset about the bad calls.
