Waiting for a miracle

It has now been 52 hours since Drew last held his breath; he has gone this long without breath holding only a couple of times since he was born.

So. What do we do while we're waiting for a miracle?

We are doing are best not to hold our breath waiting for his next breath hold, and instead trying to get the most out of all the small but wonderful bits that make up daily life with a 7 month old:

• We let him feed himself his dinner even though he gets more pureed chicken and pumpkin in his ears and nose than in his mouth, and he gets broccoli bits, well, everywhere (have you every tried to clean broccoli bits off of everywhere?!)
• I hold him a little longer after I've rocked him to sleep before oh-so-gently lying him down in his crib.
• We let him get a little rowdier during his bath in the kitchen sink even though it sends tidal waves onto the kitchen floor (it needed to be washed anyways)
• I have a little (but just a little) bit more patience for 6:30am play time.
• I take an impromptu day off of work and let those genes take care of themselves for a day.
• We go for a walk to watch the sunset when we should be home making dinner (thank-you, Laura, for keeping us fed)
• We put most people who call us on the line with Drew for a few minutes (the kid is absolutely crazy about the phone)
• We take a detour through the park on our walk to the grocery store so we can catch a black squirrel sighting
• I hug that kid a just little bit tighter when I get home

Yes, there are moments when I am absolutely paralyzed with fear about what will happen to Drew in the next minute, or week, or year. But for now we are packing the most living and loving into every single minute that we have. We don't know what the future holds but the present sure is great.

praying hard and playing hard.

kb
(my goodness, that was sappy, I must be sleep deprived)