I'm sitting here yet again, thinking of how many days have passed since I wrote. Oh well, busy life, getting ready for back to school, daily tasks of being mommy to three, so many more important things.
I was laying with Kaden last night, yes, he still sleeps in our bed, when I woke up with the overwhelming need to touch his "heart scar." As I was running my finger across his scarred chest, I was reminded of all my little boy has been through. I remember him laying in PCICU wrapped in his blue blanket, his face puffy and red from swelling. I remember gently unwrapping the blanket for the first time, because I had to look, I had to see what they had done to my precious baby. The flood of emotion seeing him like that. What was once a perfect little body was now covered in tubes, wires, IVs, tape, gauze, and a row of tiny strips of paper holding his little chest together. He lay there, limp as I picked up his little hand, and realized they had his arms restrained to keep him from pulling at his lines. In that moment, I cried out to God, "WHY have you done this to him! Why did you choose Kaden, and our family for this." And in the next moment realized the worst of the battle was over. Kaden was healed and being mad wasn't going to change the course of our lives. God revealed His love and mercy for our family during Kaden's storm. He showed us that with Him, we can overcome even the worst of circumstances and that ultimately His plan would be accomplished. As I continued to touch his chest and feel the different scars from surgery, each one became a blessing. I kissed each of his little marks and thanked God for the healing of Kaden's heart. I pulled his sweet little face close to mine and smelled his warm breath and praised my Father for allowing me to keep Kaden here with us.
