Happy Birthday, Son!
8 years ago exactly. I was overcome with fear. Our first child was dramatically and unexpectedly forced to be born ahead of time. Plans mean nothing when you’re not in control. And so it happened: he was born, my son.
Among the terrifying moments, there was an indescribable feeling of happiness, of change, of right. I was infinitely grateful to God and to my wife for enduring such a painful pregnancy.
I did not care that he had to be taken to the NICU after birth, that he was not eating, that he was barely breathing. I was inundated by the excitement and overcome with a sense of peace and love from above. And so I knew everything would be alright.
But I was the one defining what “alright” meant, as if I knew better. The following 10 days transformed my life forever. Confronted with the real possibility of losing my first son was, by far, the hardest moment of my life. And a defining moment that changed my relationship with our creator.
In a very desperate moment, I did fall on my knees and gave up. I told God I had finally got it. I was not in control, and it would be ultimately His will. I prayed as I had never prayed before. I cried until I had no more tears. I silently held my thoughts and indignation to myself to not worry my wife.
I let go. I kicked fear out. I blew up the attachments. I silenced my ego. I flew like feather in the air: erratically but without worries. Perfectly placed in time, the miracle that I did not think would happen finally came. My son started to eat and climbed back to life.
8 years later, I’m thankful to my son for he unknowingly tested my faith, and brought me back to reestablish my relationship with Him.
Happy birthday, son. I love you forever, and you will always have all of me.