His tender presence in my life softened the blows and healed my wounds.
People close to me shattered my spirit and walked out; however, those of stronger character and resolve entered my life. The baby that I mourned in those first days traded places with a boy full of infinite possibilities that could accomplish all the things that I foolishly dismissed in my mind as not possible.
Quinn created everything I am, everything I strive to accomplish, and everything pure and compassionate in my spirit.Ten years ago and fallen with fear, I yearned for a “white-picket-fence life”; if I could go back and hold the woman I was then, I would tenderly whisper in her ear…”Quinn will be a fighter, a giver of unconditional love, a stubborn force, a singer of Jingle Bells in the middle of July and a savior. The trials will come, but so will a childhood that lingers a bit longer.”
If I could go back to those first tumultuous minutes, I would not silence the sirens or dim the fear because those moments are the ones that proved a catalyst for my transformation. Within frightening and frenzied moments exist opportunities for priceless gifts.
People often say to me, “God gave you Quinn because you are strong enough to be his mother.” The reality is that Quinn gifted himself to me because I needed direction and purpose.
He is my teacher and guide. I am better because he reaches for my hand and holds it while he walks beside me. Quinn teaches me every day the importance of living a life of vibrant color and enthusiastic existence and that white picket fences belong on other people’s lawns.
On Quinn’s fifth day, I left the hospital and Quinn stayed where he would for many weeks. The chill invaded my lungs as I walked out of the revolving door and the endless tears started.
In the car ride on the way home, I stared at the passing cars and the nonchalant people going about everyday tasks and the anger made it back to my thoughts.
But, Quinn’s face flashed before me and the anger subsided; as has occurred countless times since his first day, he calmed my restlessness. His face stayed in my mind during those dense and dismal moments in the deepest part of the nights when the phone calls from the NICU shattered the silence. The nurses with updates; some depressing and some encouraging, the communication carried me through the night. Every day I rose and made my way to that face. My son. My reason.
The building of our new fence required that I learn the gentle ebb and flow of Quinn’s timeframe. Many days he and I took steps back only to step forward the next day. I learned significant lessons about myself and those around me. Previously I always searched for the next goal or step, but with Quinn, I learned how to exist in the moment and savor every success. Quinn’s presence in my life gave me perspective on the importance of working on my fears and weaknesses while developing into the mom Quinn deserved. Above all, I learned that strength grows when life destroys old dreams. I spent countless hours over the years in hospital rooms, in therapists’ offices and in improvised places of prayer.
Additional diagnoses and health concerns arrived and at times, questions of fairness and faith clouded choices and blurred our vision. This never lasted long; Quinn kept me focused and we kept building. The many nights spent sitting and watching Quinn sleep carried me when life gutted my hopes and flung me to my knees.
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