It’s been three years since I posted our first update on Austin. Three full years since all the doctors agreed he wouldn’t survive. Most days I still don’t believe it, and today I broke down. I can say it’s because I have a headache, and I injured my knee skiing this week, but all that just adds to this huge burden of forgetting.
I wanted to share some of the memories from today because I remember it now, but I can’t promise I’ll remember it next year.
On February 12th, 2015. Thomas went to work, but my mom had flown in and had set up shop in this beautiful little condo overlooking the San Clemente Pier. I invited my two best friends over, Leighanne and Kali. Leighanne was 34 weeks pregnant with my godson, Parish Lee, and we sat on the couch and laughed and talked about when Parish would come. Little did we know he would be earthside in a little less than 24 hours. Kali now has a 2 year old little girl that is such a dream.
I was craving a pizza and texting my Big, Emily. I also did not want to move from that couch. So from 2,000 miles away, Emily ordered us a pizza to be delivered. It’s still one of those things that make me cry.
The sunset that night was perfect. Thomas, Mom and I went to dinner at the pier and walked to the end to watch it. It was one of those days I remember fondly, but I have to be honest, I don’t remember writing this blog post. I don’t remember how I strung the words together, or told the world my son was dying. I don’t know how I was calm enough to speak this truth. I just know it had to be God. And a peace without understanding.
Austin was our miracle. I still believe it.