You have brought me, your mother, more joy than you will probably ever know; and I am blessed beyond measure because of you.
You came to me just a little over 9 years ago, a tiny infant just starting out in life. You were born in Germany, and you were a tiny little thing. You weighed just 2 pounds at birth, according to the records sent to us by the adoption agency, but despite your smallness you proved to be a very scrappy little fellow with an iron will to survive.
And survive, you did!
At the age of 2 1/2 months, you were flown to America, and you were immediately placed up for adoption, where, shortly thereafter, you were placed into our home--and our hearts. You came to us, and we immediately fell in love with you. We saw your huge bright blue eyes and your your head full of white peach fuzz for hair; and we were instantly smitten. You just came to a new home, and a new country, but we felt as though we had always known you: you were the handsomest little fellow we had ever seen, and you immediately became OURS. You were now our little boy.
You were joined shortly thereafter by a sister..your sister, Ronee'. Ronee' was the same age as you, and she was a beauty.
She was the complete opposite of you: she was tiny and delicate, as you had been, but she was dark-skinned with huge, bright black eyes and a headful of fuzzy black hair that stuck straight up. We fell instantly in love with her, too, and you two soon bonded; and you two became inseparable.
You and Ronee' continue to be extremely close to this very day.
When you were 10 months old, Johnny, you tried to take your first wobbly steps, in your attempts to walk, but you seemed rather clumbsy in nature; but we just assumed that it was due to you being born premature. Little did we know the nightmare we would soon face when the doctor told us you needed further testing, as he suspected a neuromuscular disorder. One week prior to your first birthday we were told you had Duchenne's muscular dystrophy; your biological mother--she died giving birth to you; you never knew her--had been the carrier, and she passed the defective gene on to you. You were not expected to see your teenaged years, and the doctor offered little hope.
As you can imagine, we were crushed beyond belief. We cried buckets of tears over you. You were just starting out in life, and already you had been handed a death sentence; it was our worst fears come true .
But you proved to be a little fighter. You just laughed and enjoyed life; but then, two months after your first birthday you suddenly took sick. You had been coming down with what seemed to be a cold; but then one night, as I went to check on you, you were feverish and you were crying and screaming, as though you were in pain. You then started jerking as your little fevered body went into a convulsion; and it really scared the hell out of me; so we (your daddy and myself) drove you to the nearest hospital emergency room; where you were then taken to a table and were immediately placed into a doctor's care. When the tests came back, you were found to have a virulent form of cerebralspinal meningitis. You were a very sick little boy.
It was a bad time in our lives; you were deathly ill from meningitis, and your sister, Ronee', was in a coma from a bus accident she had been involved in; she suffered massive head and internal injuries, and she was in a coma. Yet you never even knew about it because you were plenty sick yourself, and you were in a coma as well. Yet, every day, daddy and/or myself would take turns seeing both you and your sister as you two valiantly tried to fight for your very lives; and we cried and prayed for a miracle. Things at that time didn' t look at ALL good.
Each and every day, we would hold you in our arms and we would talk to you, telling you about different things, in hopes we would get some sort of response, but you just lay there, unmoving, unseeing, unfeeling, your body hooked up to a myriad of tubes, wires, and monitoring equipment. Ronee' was in pretty much the same shape. We would talk to her, too, but, like you, she showed no response at first.
There was talk of brain damage on both your parts. Things were bleak at best. Doctors didn't offer you or your sister any hope. They felt that you both would probably emerge vegetables..or severely brain damaged, handicapped, or both.
Well, Johnny, I have to run; will continue this tomorrow.
I love doing these types of stories; where the main character writes a letter about whatever is on their mind. I got the idea to do this one after reading Michelle Kidwell's latest story; check it out; it is very moving and a well written piece! She is truly a gifted writer, and her faith shines like a beacon in the night! I am glad to call her my "friend"! :)
What a beautiful story, your talent is shown through in here, and your postscript is making me cries tears of joy, because I am truly blessed to call you my Sister in Christ.
In Christs Love
Michelle
Let this coming of age story of a boy named Bean take you back to a simple time. Set in a small southern town in the 1960's, encircled by a river and gleaming white cotton fields.
The familiar lament of dual-career parents raising children is, "I just can't do it all." The Libra Solution provides an alternative - a more satisfying and sustainable work and life approach - to the overwrought modern day norm.
