When Aria was born, she was in the NICU for about a week and half. I was told that the reason she was there was my fault. Even though I knew they were wrong, and they were treating her for something she did not have, I was racked with guilt. If I could go back and talk to myself then, I would tell myself about tonight. My dear little one has a bit of a bug. Nothing serious. She'll probably be fine by tomorrow. But tonight she wants me to sit and hold her. So I sat in the rocking chair in her room and held her. I recited Bible verses, told her stories, and sang songs to her. The cat joined us for awhile (where does anyone sit when I'm not here?!) and we petted her - as if we had a choice. I would tell myself all of this and add - I don't remember the names of any of the nurses or doctors that treated Aria in the NICU. Not that they didn't do a fine job, but they were wrong in their diagnoses, and in their wrongness they judged me. It doesn't matter now. It didn't matter then. Here I am more than two years later with a wonderful, sweet, overall healthy little girl. Today when Derek came in from work she squealed "Dad-deeee!" Earlier today she laughed and said, "Noah funny!" "Noah funny!" This was our day today, and that time in the hospital is almost completely forgotten. Whenever you are in the middle of something hard, something that seems never ending, something unbearable, just remember in two years (or less) it was will be memory. Although it seems unending, you will be surprised how quickly it's the distant past. Then one day when things are lovely and good, you will think back on this time and it will seem so small. Take the strength from it and leave the rest. This too will pass and things will be so good you will want to drink up every small detail. God is good to me. God was good then, and God is good now. That never changes. Praise God.
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