nine years ago, on november 21 at 10:03 a.m., i gave birth to my first child by an emergency c-section.
she had the cord wrapped around her neck twice and there was a knot in the cord which had blocked oxygen to her brain and caused her to have infantile seizures (which looks different than your typical seizure). on top of that, she was suffering from meconium aspiration as a result from all the stress she had endured in the womb.
i didn't get to hold my baby after she was born. to make things worse, in the middle of the night they woke me up to have me sign a piece of paper allowing them to transport my baby girl to a different hospital. she was now considered a high risk baby that they couldn't properly treat in their hospital. they gave me some polaroid pictures of her and then they took my baby away.
that leads us to the story of this turkey...
she didn't spend her first thanksgiving at home with us. she spent it with this little turkey. a volunteer placed this sweet guy in her incubator. i have cherished it ever since. it now serves as a reminder of how precious every thanksgiving is with her at home.
it wasn't 'til a few weeks later, december 5th, that we finally had our baby girl home with us where she belonged. she continued on seizure medication for the first year of her life and she has a small scar on her ankle from medicine burning her skin. we had many visits to a plastic surgeon, neurologist, and had too many eeg tests done. but i do realize that this is nothing compared to many parents who have endured worse things with their own children and my heart goes out to them.
so, she is now turning 9 and she is brilliant, sweet, smart, athletic, creative, and kind. you would never know that she was covered in tubes and needles once in her life. you would never know the doctors told us that if another day had gone by with a lack of oxygen she wouldn't have made it.
with every passing birthday, i thank god for the gift of my daughter. i remember to be thankful for the mere fact that she is alive and at home with us. i squeeze her tight and hold her close.
she is... and always will be... a reminder of god's love.