Today is World Prematurity Day. I have so much to celebrate today.
I've been staring at this open blog window all day. I have so many things to say, so many places I could go with this post.
I just don't know where to start.
So I'll just say that I am so very thankful. Did you know that one in EIGHT babies are born too soon? That last year, there were ONE MILLION babies who were born before their time who weren't as lucky as my babies, ONE MILLION babies who were too small, too underdeveloped, one million babies who couldn't be saved. In addition, there were TWELVE MILLION babies who are in the same boat as mine? TWELVE MILLION babies who were born too early, who spent the first days or weeks or months of their lives in plastic boxes, living on borrowed time and prayers. TWELVE MILLION babies who, like mine, are still fighting for their lives.
I am so thankful that I listened to my body, that I spoke up when I felt that something wasn't right. I am so thankful that my midwife was insistent on being aggressive with examining me, and then sending me straight to the hospital when she, too, thought something wasn't right. I'm thankful for the OBs and perinatologists that fought so hard to keep me pregnant, to get us to a place where my babies had a chance. And I am so thankful for the doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists who truly did the work of God's hands and kept my babies alive.
I am so thankful I have babies - tiny, premature, formerly pound-and-a-half miracle babies - to snuggle tonight, on World Prematurity Day.