Breakfast Of With A Champion


Four years ago today, I had not even held him...only touched him...and sang to him...and stood by his NICU crib until I gave out completely and needed to rest after having a c-section a little more than twenty-four hours earlier.

He ingested some fluid during his delivery and was being treated for pneumonia with antibiotics.

He was six pounds and one ounce.

He was receiving oxygen through a cannula and colostrum through a feeding tube.

He was eighteen and one quarter inch long.

And me...I was too proud to be scared. And for the next eight days, I spent more time by his side than I did in my hospital bed or the hotel room Jim and I stayed in just minutes away until we finally "roomed-in" with him the night before he was discharged.

And today, this morning, I had breakfast with him (a bowl of Frosted Flakes to be exact).

And he's not yet a champion of any sport or any particular thing other than being my first-born baby...

but that's enough to make him a champion to me!

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