Grace for today

Sweet baby K has been in the NICU for all 91 days of his life at this point! Can you imagine?! Thankfully he doesn’t know the difference, but still. I want him to be able to feel the sun on his face, to sleep in a bassinet instead of a sterile hospital crib, to go outside on a walk in the stroller. All in good time, I know.

This Saturday will be his due date, meaning he is now technically a full-term baby! When he was born at 26 weeks, he weighed only 1 lb 12 oz. Today, he weighs just over 5 1/2 lb! He has grown so much and is a lot more alert and interactive these days. He got his NG tube out (well, technically he threw it up but that’s another story) and is taking full volumes from the bottle at each feeding. It is so amazing to me to see the progress that these preemie babies can make!

K’s big issue preventing him from coming home is his lungs. He has BPD- bronchopulmonary dysplasia- and is still requiring oxygen via a nasal cannula. At this point, since he is so “old” (one of his therapists dubbed him an elder statesman of the NICU), they are considering sending him home on oxygen. I’m not gonna lie- I reallyyyy don’t want that to happen. For his sake, of course, but also for mine! The last thing I want to do is tote an oxygen tank with us everywhere we go, stress about turning on my gas stove when K is nearby, and worry that the oxygen tank will somehow stop functioning in the middle of the night. Ahhhh!

BUT. Here is what I felt the Holy Spirit put on my heart the other day:

I have grace for today.

I don’t need to waste my energy worrying about bringing K home on oxygen, because it hasn’t happened yet. If or when it does, God will give me grace for that. I find myself constantly trying to “hoard manna” for tomorrow, completely forgetting that God graciously gives us our daily bread. Key word: daily!

So, that is something that has really been encouraging my heart lately. I have enough grace for what I need to do today. God’s grace is sufficient, and his power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

As I type these words on my phone, I’m in the NICU with baby K snuggled against my chest. I can hear his sweet, steady, wheezy little breaths. His tiny toes press down on my belly where there is another little boy growing bigger and stronger each day. To be holding two miracles at the same time, one in my arms and one in my womb, is a lavish gift that is not lost on me for one second. Grace, grace, grace.