Miracles

“We must pray for miracles, work like crazy for miracles, expect and demand miracles, and for goodness sake, we must see them for what they are when they happen.”

I read this on another autism mom's blog today and it struck a cord with me. I've seen miracles.

I've seen big miracles. When Miracle Boy was three months old, he had emergency open heart surgery. He was in surgery for 11 hours. We were told he had a less than 1% chance of surviving. I'll stop here and let that sink in. Less.Than.One.Percent. As in almost no chance of survival. At one point, someone (I don't remember who) told us that we would be ushered to the operating room so we could hold our infant son while they "unplugged' him and he died. To this day I do not know how I survived that. I'm amazed my heart didn't give out.

But, not only did Miracle Boy survive, he thrived. All the predictions of being a medical invalid, needing a heart transplant, having developmental delays or other effects from lack of oxygen, none of them came true. Today he is a healthy, happy, bright, promising young man. And every year when we see his cardiologist, that man simply shakes his head and says "I'm not quite sure why this young man is alive. It's not because of anything we did. I never believed in miracles until he came along." He truly is a miracle, a big one. One that happened in an instant, on an operating table, while dozens of doctors watched in disbelief. One of them told us "We had given up. And then there was a spark and his heart just started beating again." No medical explanation, a miracle pure and simple. One I'm thankful for everyday. Big miracles are easy for everyone to spot.

But I've seen little miracles too. Sometimes they are harder to see, or recognize as miracles. But this does not make them any less spectacular.  Bambam is the king of little miracles. And each one of them is precious. The fact that my non-verbal 3 year old now talks in full sentances at 7, a miracle indeed. When he started finally walking at almost 2 years of age (and 35 pounds) it was a miracle. One my back is ever thankful for. Walking into his classroom and saying "hi TJ" to his classmate (with appropriate eye contact), that is a miracle. Attending a birthday party at a bounce place with 20 other kids and not only surviving but having fun and laughing, another miracle. Each one of these miracles has taken hours of hard work and determination (on everyone's part), constant coaching and exposing, leading, prodding. But, just because we work at these things, that doesn't make them any less miraculous.

“We must pray for miracles, work like crazy for miracles, expect and demand miracles, and for goodness sake, we must see them for what they are when they happen.”

Indeed.