13

[NoRain]

Peace and much, much happiness to you both. Happy birthday, man-child.

 

[Anniejustagirl]

I remember every damned time he did something that someone said he'd never do.

and i know where he got that strength from!

 

[ABSTRUSE]

Congratulations on being a mother of a teenager!!




and a damn fine mom at that.


Happy Birthday Big Guy.

 

[arienette]

A teenager...this is where the fun starts!
Happy Birthday to him and congratulations.

 

[neonlyte]

Unconditional love - thank you for sharing Imp's
Congratulations to both.

 

[AngeloMichael]

I'm in tears after reading that. A mother's love is the most powerful force in the universe. I'm so happy that he had that through his difficult first days and then made it through them to experience it throughout his life. He may be your pride and joy, a great source of happiness to you, but believe me, he is the lucky one to have you. You, like so many other wonderful mothers, are amazing.

Happy birthday to your son and many, many more.

 

[Guest]

 

[rgraham666]

That was a great way to start my day.

Happy birthday to your son, imp.

And *HUGS* to you. You're such a fine person.

 

[SensualCealy]

Imp- Through the tears I wish you and your son a Happy 13th Year!!

I know what its like to have Drs play God and say what they know will happen. Your heart breaks and as you are praying your heart out, low and behold your kid makes it!

I was told when my son was 18 months old that due to the severe pnemonia he had he likely wouldn't survive. Well as you all know, the 15 1/2 yr old is alive and well.
New Dr and many aggravating years inbetween we still get pissed when we talk about that situation. Concidering that same Dr said our son only had a chest cold!
Wasnt until we went to emerge that night that the ER dr said, "Why the HEll did your family dr not book him in this afternoon?" DUH, I dunno!

Many many more years for you and your son!
Lots of Love
C

 

[eric shawn listo]

Well crap...now I got tears in my eyes...Happy day to you and your son Imp...

 

[oggbashan]

Enjoy every moment of your son's teenage angst. They are his growing pains that you and he will survive. The more he behaves like any other teenage boy, the more he will confirm that your love protected him to this stage.

***

My youngest daughter was born with a deformed head - chemically induced into coming out too fast because my wife's placenta was failing.

Her first five years were marked with frequent but negative checks for the 'brain damage' she had suffered from the trauma of her birth.

Now she is a junior hospital house doctor and won a prize as a student for her obstetric studies.

The only sign of brain damage? She plays football and supports Arsenal Football Club.

Og

 

[Aurora Black]

Today, he became a teenager.

Yet another example of how doctors don't know shit. Glad you guys made it. X 300

 

[Guest]

Wow, Imp. There's me thinking I was toughening up, but na, a read of your post there and... tears stinging eyes.

What an amazing example of a mother's deep and true love you are.

Many happy returns to your beautiful son.

 

[AppleBiter]

*applause* A belated happy birthday to your son and congratulations to you!

 

[Zeb_Carter]

Imp, a Happy Birthday to you son.

Your words were very moving and brought back memories, good and bad. Thank you for your words and feeling and I wish you and your son all the luck that life can bring.

Almost thirteen years ago my granddaughter was brought into this world via natural childbirth. She was unfortunatly born with a serious and complex heart defect which was keeping her blood from being oxigenated properly.

Long story short...She spent the first six months of her life in NICU until she was old enough for a surgery that would save her life. Twelve years later she has had four open heart surgeries and has a pacemaker but is otherwise completely healthy.

On Jan. 9th of next year she will be thirteen...

 

[TheEarl]

Fantabulous story. Happy birthday to your son.

The Earl

 

[Nirvanadragones]

Thirteen years ago today – at just about this time, too – I was in the recovery room following the emergency c-section delivery of my first child,...

...I remember every damned time he did something that someone said he'd never do...

...Today, he became a teenager.

I have been trying to find the right words to reply to this thread, Sweet... but it's not happening.

I think a good parent finds the unique ways their children need to be encouraged and inspired to build their hopes and dreams. Which is what you have done perfectly. I don't think you can love a child too much - as you have shown.

You are one of the most amazing women I have met. You're so many incredible things... and I'm adding Parent- extraordinaire to the list...

x 1 000 000 000

 

[CrimsonMaiden]

That was very beautiful Imp. Happy birthday to your son!

 

[impressive]

Thirteen years ago today – at just about this time, too – I was in the recovery room following the emergency c-section delivery of my first child, and I was planning his funeral. I'd just spent two hours in the operating room watching too many doctors scurrying around – cutting me open without regard for how I'd be sewn back together, yanking a big baby from my gut and doing absolutely hideous things to him to get him to just BREATHE.

I held a pillow over my gut as the anesthesia wore off 'cause it felt like my sobs would tear open the incision. Right before they moved me to a room, a wheeled bassinet-thingy passed by and I got to peek at him – buried in tubes and wires. They flew him to the tertiary care NICU across town. A helicopter, just to cross town.

Less than 24 hours later, I convinced the doctors to release me so that I could be with him. "I'll be at another hospital, for Christ's sake!" I screamed at them. They let me go – against their better judgment. They did it because they were certain my son would not survive, and they didn't want to deprive me of the chance to spend some time with him.

I never told anyone how much I bled those first few days. I was afraid they'd make me leave his side. I leaked everywhere: blood from below, tears from above, and milk from my breasts.

I remember the parade of forms – consent forms for various extreme measures: lung surfactants, ECMO, Broviac ... Words no parent should ever have to hear.

I remember how huge he looked compared to all the preemies.

I remember them saying, "Don't get attached. He won't survive to leave the hospital."

I left his side only when forced: when the doctors made rounds, nursing shift changes, and when my husband spelled me for a couple hours so I could shower. During those times, I left a tape recorder there for him – with my voice reading to him. I slept in the rocking chair beside the ... I suppose you'd call it a bed, sorta.

I remember the day I returned after rounds to discover that one of the two ventilators (the "jett puff" one) had been removed and the ugly drainage tube sticking out of his side had been pulled. That was also the day that they told me he wouldn't need the ECMO after all. Extra Corporeal Membrane Oxygenation. In other words, lung bypass. I nearly fainted.

One by one, the IVs came out – but not before he'd blown so many of them that it looked like someone put cigarettes out on his precious skin. They even shaved patches of his thick, dark hair for scalp IVs.

The nurses snuck me food, although eating in the NICU was against the rules. They wheeled in a breast pump every few hours. By the time they started him "on calories" (through an NG tube – oh, 'scuse me, naso-gastric tube for the unscarred), I had over 3 gallons of expressed breast milk waiting in their freezer.

I remember each prognosis – carefully worded pessimism. One particularly callous neurosurgeon said, "It only takes a brain stem to be a baby." One warned, "He'll never even recognize you." (Wanna bet, asshole?)

I remember the hospital social worker pulling me aside to deliver information about institutions: "You can have more children, honey. Place him here. He'll get excellent care. Get on with your life." (As if.)

I remember holding him for the first time – when he was three weeks old – and the entire NICU staff standing around us, crying and applauding.

I remember bringing him home – when he was four weeks old – and, for the first time, nursing him directly from my breasts. (They never did know that I wet my pinkie with breast milk and put it in his mouth at the hospital – while he was "eating" through that damned tube. I wanted him to taste, damn it!)

I remember every damned time he did something that someone said he'd never do.

Ten years later, he was named as one of our community's "most influential citizens."

Today, he became a teenager.

14

 

[Belegon]

Happy Birthday, Dude!

 

[Adi87]

Happy birthday to your son, Imp

And this is for you,
There are not many people in this world who are as strong as you and your son.

 

[Trombonus]

Happy birthday indeed.

 

[scheherazade_79]

I missed this last year. You're truly inspirational, Imp

I love how you didn't give up.

I hope you realise how amazing you are

 

[S-Des]

Now that I've gotten to know you a bit (and even been lucky enough to meet you), I'm even more touched by the story. Truly wonderful.

 

[slyc_willie]

Oh, holy heaven, Imp;

God bless you. Truly. You and your miracle of a son.

I wish I knew what that was like. I've faced my own odds, time and again, but to watch another, a creation from within you . . .

I can't compare.

Love to you, and to him. Surely, he's got a guardian angel working overtime perched upon his shoulder.