Recently, I was at one of M1's junior high basketball tournaments and enjoying watching the game. As I was watching the opposing team, I kept having the feeling that I knew some of the players. All the various places I could know those boys from ran through my mind: little league, homeschool groups, community organizations, etc. but I couldn't figure it out.
At half time, I was scanning the crowd for the rest of our cheering section and saw a familiar face. But it wasn't a face for our team, it was for the opposition.
In my former life (before children), I was a neonatal intensive care nurse. I took care of many babies, born at various stages of development. And every once in a while, I developed a special relationship with the parents/family of one of my patients.
And THIS familiar face was a mother of one of my former patients. One of the special people who I have been fortunate enough to keep up with for the past fourteen years.
And her son, one of the players on the opposing teams, was one of my last (and most favorite) patients I took care of in the NICU.
He was due a month before M1, but was born about four months premature (correct me if I am wrong, Chris). Eric (as I called him) was special to me partially because he was a living visual of what M1 was looking like in utero. But he was also special because of his parents and sister. They were just neat people. And over the course of his time in the unit, we spent a lot of time together.
One of the last days before Eric was discharged from the unit, he was my only patient. I spent a lot of time rocking him. He layed on my belly and kicked from the outside while M1 kicked from the inside. They must have been practicing their basketball moves even then . . .
Fast forward fourteen year, and here is Eric (at 6 ft.)and M1 (at 5'11")out on the basketball court battling it out. I was in awe and overwhelmed at BOTH of them.
You would never know that Eric had once been a micropreemie and the M1 had once fit in my belly!
Fountain of Joy
19 hours ago