When you see the pictures, and even the good ones. The ones I am able to post? It is overwhelming. It is. But when you are face to face with your own child who is in such condition, it is paralyzing. It's safe to say that I can speak for those of us who were in that ambulance and witnessed her entrance into this world when I tell you that the only way to describe what we saw is that it was the visual equivalent of the word 'broken'. All the king's horses, and all the king's men.
I don't know why I expected her to cry, but I did. And when she didn't? I thought she'd left me. But then all of a sudden, there she was. Having seen what I had seen, and having just heard what I had heard, it was nothing short of a miracle. It was as if someone reached in from the great beyond, and you could almost see that hand. I certainly felt it.
And so later that night, I sat with her, next to her. And just watched. The machine, vibrating oxygen into her lungs. The fluids, passing thru her IV lines drop by drop. The blue lights above her, radiating down upon her skin. I can't tell you what it sounded like. I don't remember. Hysterical deafness, perhaps. But it felt primitive. In spite of everything. In spite of all of the equipment. In spite of all of the technology that surrounded her, it was primordial.
In that moment, and for the nine days that followed, she was fueled by nothing more than instinct. It was obvious and recognizable by the naked eye. If I had to verbally depict my belief of what a human soul might look like, I'd say that was it. You could almost see hers, driving her from one day into the next. Her appearance began to change almost hourly. Her core became less transparent. Her pigment began to show. What's known as filling out was occurring, but it was more as if she was filling over. The physical protection of her spiritual entity. Her body, growing around her substance. From one visit into another, we continuously relived her birth, again and again. We weren't just watching her develop, we were witness to her form. We beheld something only God himself is ever supposed to see.
She wasn't able to do much in those first days. She was literally powerless to fight against the changes. Like a runner, bent over, hands upon knees, gasping for breath. Except her race was just beginning. Time was yet to tell us how far she'd be able to go. On the ninth day, we saw her sprint. You could sense the transformation of energy in her as compared to day one. Or day two. Or even day three. A little bit stronger. A little bit more. Just simply sitting next to her, and holding her hand, you could feel it. The humming, like an engine. It was her body, actively taking over.
For months, I debated posting these first consecrated reflections. Even thru all of the words, it can't quite be adequately described. A stack of dictionaries in every conceivable language could not do it justice. That force of nature, that force within her. And I came close to not even uploading them. But I ultimately decided to do it. It's not everyday that a person gets to give testimony to their own actual genesis. Her immortality, captured on digital images. It's not every day that the world gets to experience such a miracle. Again, I think about what she would choose to do. I think she would be proud to say "This was me. I'm not supposed to be here today. But. I. Am. I am the strongest person you will probably ever know. This is what I overcame. I am unstoppable." Because it's true. And she is.
There are still more photos of Little Bird that we will never post. Some things should and will remain sacred, for our eyes only. Days in which she was catching her second wind, and likely didn't want her picture taken. Nights in which a single second distracted with adjusting the lens could have very well been her last. But given the situation, and never knowing how much time we'd be allotted with her, we had to. One of the best pieces of advice I could offer to any parent is to make a record of every memory, good or bad. Keep a camera handy at all times. Take a picture every single day. Even the worst days are worth capturing. And you will never, ever regret a moment of it.
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