Harper Marie,
74 days ago we began a journey that neither one of us were
really prepared for. I will never forget looking down at your tiny frame,
curled up in your isolette with your ventilator tube poking out from your little
mouth- you looked so precious and so fragile and so unequipped to live in this
wide world. I could never imagine then just what the next 10 and ½ weeks had in
store for us.
Harper, they say that when a baby goes into the NICU, her
parents are forced onto the “NICU Rollercoaster”. You, my beautiful girl, were
our rollercoaster. There were days in the NICU that I was afraid to pick you
up, scared that I would do more harm to your tiny figure than I would good.
Those days were excruciating; your dad would sit and watch your monitor and
slowly pull out his hair as we watched your numbers dip and soar, and dip
again. There was nothing predictable
about you, Miss Harper, nothing predictable at all.
You were “Baby B”- the smaller twin, in the contorted
position, with the bigger risk for complications during birth- especially a
pre-term birth. And when you were born, you had complications to overcome. I
watched you wither from the very small 2 lbs. 14 oz, down to the skeletal 2 lb
7 ounce little one who could be scooped up by her dad in just one hand. We
watched you battle back from low birth weight, battle back from underdeveloped
lungs, battle back from failed eye tests and hearing tests, battle back from
premature bradychardia and desaturations, and we watched you battle back from
reflux and eating problems to be a happy little miss on her way out the door of
the NICU tomorrow.
Harper, I am in awe of you. In your short little life, you
have had more medical treatment than I have withstood in my thirty years. You
have endured most of these procedures alone- without Momma’s hand to hold when
you’re scared, for that I am deeply sorry. I cannot imagine what a brave and
resilient soul inhabits your little body. I admire your ability to coo and
smile and snuggle despite all you’ve been through. You come from a long line of
fighters-especially stubborn women who do not live down to the expected norm. I
knew you would be a spitfire, even in the womb, but I never imagined how strong
and spirited you would be so soon. We wanted you to live, and I am so glad you
wanted to live as well.
On the way to the NICU one morning, I heard a song about a
mother and a daughter that stopped me in my tracks. This song immediately made
me think of you, and, as your Mama Reba would say, brought lots of “liquid
love” to my eyes. When I got to the NICU that day, I sang the song to you and
I’ve sung the song to you ever since. So, in closing, I will leave you with a
few lines from this song, as well as a promise. Harper, I promise that I will
do my very best to be the kind of mother you deserve. I will not take a moment
I have with you for granted because I have been without you for all 74 days of
your life. I will not curse your fighting spirit, because without that fight, I
would not have my beautiful girl. You, Harper Marie Collett, you are a miracle
child- a girl who has overcome so much and will continue to thrive and soar.
You and your brother are my greatest treasures and I pray that I am never a
disappointment in your eyes.
I love you,
Momma
Excerpt from “In My Daughter’s Eyes”- Martina McBride
“This miracle God
gave to me,
Gives me strength
when I am weak,
I find reason to
believe,
In my daughter's
eyes
And when she wraps
her hand around my finger,
How it puts a smile
in my heart,
Everything becomes a
little clearer,
I realize what life
is all about,
It's hanging on when
your heart has had enough,
It's giving more
when you feel like giving up,
I've seen the light,
It's in my
daughter's eyes”
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