Two years ago today Handsome was admitted to the hospital. He was 19 days old and wasn't growing and gaining weight like he should have. We had been monitoring his weight gain (or the lack thereof) with our pediatrician. I've never been called an optimist, but I wouldn't even allow myself to consider that his slow start might mean something serious. That night Stud and I sat in a quiet hospital room with Handsome. In the hours prior a variety of physicians had been in and out of the room, poking and prodding my little boy. We were left in silence that night to process what they wanted to rule out: metabolic disorder, undetected Down's, brain tumor.
My mom says that when something like that happens, your world gets very small. It did. I sat there in the room praying, pouring my heart out to God, begging that my son would live. The next day a feeding tube was put in my little man. Stud tried to reframe it for me and told me to pretend that he looked like a little hockey player.
Today my little man really looks like a little hockey player. He clearly has no weight gain problems now. God answered my prayers for my son. Both that I would have a second child after Sweet Pea and then that he would be brought back to full health and have life abundantly.
If you've spent anytime with my son, you'd know that whatever he does, he does it heartily.
Thank You, precious Lord, for Handsome!
