Thankful For Ordinary Miracles

I have been on a little siesta from the computer. The excitement of the holidays has started swirling 'round even though I can not believe that it has been another year. This Thanksgiving, like all others, we have so much to be thankful for. Our family is so very blessed.

As of lately the boys and I have also been discussing the word special, particularly Knox and I. Trying to explain the difference in the contexts of the word special when applied to Ivey having special needs and that each child is equally special to me, but that 'yes' sometimes we do say that Ivey has special needs that the boys do not have, but that she is not really more or less special than they….is a hard topic to explain….. But considering Knox and I had a similar conversation about the words pen and pin, and why the spelling made them represent two different objects even though they sound very much alike, well, you get the picture.

This week Ivey had her first Thanksgiving party at preschool. A very special event for Matt and me. In the days leading up to her Thanksgiving party, I got a phone call from Father Peter. You may recall that we met Father Peter the night before Ivey was trached. A God moment. Since then Father Peter has played a unique role in Ivey's life.

Not long after Ivey was born, I actually found a father in Argentina that had a son who was only weeks older than Ivey with the same genetic mutation. Like I have said in the past, her genetic abnormality is extremely rare. He is the only other child that we personally know of like Ivey. The dad and I kept in distant contact for several months. He was in a remote area of Argentina, so access to a computer was hard.

After meeting Father Peter, he became taken in by Ivey. Then by random happenstance he traveled to Argentina and actually found and met the family. It still amazes me that one person connected these two special babies.

During the summer of 2007, my communication with Pablito's father stopped. I have heard nothing from him since then.

When Father Peter called earlier in the week, we spoke of several things. Then he asked if I had spoken with the family in Argentina lately. "No. Not in over a year." In the past year I have often wondered about Pablito and how he was. I also wondered if communication with his father had stopped because of the unthinkable. Honestly, there was some comfort not knowing. Father Peter said, "Gwen, the baby died." The unthinkable, but I already knew.

I was driving. My grip tightened on the steering wheel; my chest tightened. I hurt for the family and I feared for Ivey. Such mixed emotions. What did it mean, if anything at all?

When Matt came home later that night I told him the news. So how is it that we were so sad; yet, found comfort knowing that we live in a place with exceptional health care, something they did not have in Argentina? Our baby girl survived so many days that we just did not know what the ending would be. It reminds us that no matter how similar two children are genetically predestined to be, they can be so different.

Standing in Ivey's preschool classroom, I thought of Pablito and his fate. I remembered Ivey's first Thanksgiving as we celebrated it at Scottish Rite. I thought of last year. I stood there and watched Ivey sit at a table surrounded by her friends.

We are thankful for our family and our friends. And this year we are thankful for Ms. Rhonda and Ms. Ashley. We are thankful for the families who are raising children with such loving hearts. If only everyone could see through the eyes of these children. Just like Knox and Walker, they see her as Ordinary, just another ordinary miracle, no more special, but some how they know that there is something special about Ivey.

So what do they do without being taught or told?

They love her.