solomon, part 5: the day you came home

YOU'RE GOING HOME TODAY.

those were the words we had waited ten days to hear. ten days that seemed like ten years. when we think back on our time before Children's Hospital, it seems like a lifetime ago. like we have no idea who we were before you came.

just got the news- we're going home!

but without warning, the pediatricians gave us the go-ahead to go home! we had thought they would tell us he was good to go home and then maybe the next day we'd get to leave with you. but no! on tuesday we came in to your room, expecting it to be just like anyother day. we fed you, changed you. daddy worked and momma pumped and kangarooed you. the pediatricians took longer to come upstairs and have their meeting-- it was lunchtime before they came.

but when they came, they just said-- 'hey, you're going home today!'and we were struck dumb and giddy and amazed. we bumbled through questions and just said, thank you thank you over and over again.

the next hours flew by in a rush! we texted all our friends! we had to find you a coming home outfit! we ate lunch! we made sure the carseat was ready and daddy brought it up to your room.

we took a picture of nurse julia so you could remember her and we could tell you about her great kindness to us. 

and before we knew it, three nurses were escorting us out into the front hospital circle. your daddy clicked the carseat in and we were ready to go!

 when we pulled into our driveway, uncle D was there waiting with baby N. he had a cardboard sign that said 'WELCOME HOME!' and was running around in our driveway with it! shortly after we got out of the car, the Pies all showed up and J used a mallet to hammer a sign into our yard that said 'Welcome Home Baby!'. our downstairs neighbors D&A brought us yummy stirfry to eat and we stayed outside and talked and talked and laughed for a good hour or so. but then it started to thunder and drizzle, so we thought we'd better go inside.

finally we got to walk you up the stairs to our apartment and into your room. it was so surreal-- bringing you into the room we had decorated and prepared for you. a room that a week before we had thought you might never see. we sat with you there in your room and watched the summer thunderstorm roll in-- all the rain seemed to just wash peace over everything. my soul was just one big grateful sigh. after all the spiritual and physical battling, we could finally rest together as a family.

home sweet, with you.

and this is how we've been ever since! awed and thankful. God brought us His peace when we had none. God was our strength and anchor of hope when we dared not hope. how fitting your name is to define the time surrounding your birth: solomon (shalom) anchor. though we had picked your name before all of this happened, God knew it was the name we would need. we would need to be reminded of who He is and His steadfast promise of hope and freedom-- that our peace and hope is found in that.

people keep asking us how we are doing and we can only answer-- great! i used to be worried about the transition of having you home. of losing sleep and dirty diapers and spit up and babycries. but you are really such a good baby-- content and mostly quiet. and we kept you on the 3 hour schedule the hospital put you on, so you are predictable as well! after all the heart-wrenching fears for your life in the hospital, waking up to feed you isn't so bad. if anything, i think it has made us more grateful for each minute we get to spend with you. there are not many memories of these 10 days that i want to remember (though i will for your sake), but i hope we never forget what a precious blessing you are. what a gift we have in you.

we thank God for the blessing of your life and can't wait to see His amazing plan for you.