The "fight" of his life.......

Victor Griego, aka "Bobby Herman"

For those that don't know, Colin's middle name is Victor. He is named after this man above. This is a picture of my grandfather. He was a boxer in the lightweight division in the 1920's-1930's, until he met my grandma and got married.

I think it is ironic that I choose Colin's middle name after my boxing grandfather. This is exactly what Colin is doing at this point in his life. Fighting, but for totally different reasons. 

I was also reminded of the double entendre of "Victor" when Colin was at Glendale Adventist. It was a few days after his birth, and the pastor who counsels families and prays for them came to Colin's incubator to chat with us. After a few minutes, he offered to say a prayer for Colin with us, and we obliged. 

When he was done, he said "Well, I certainly believe that Colin will live up to his name and be a 'victor' in his struggle". When he said that, I was instantly overcome with peace at that thought. How perfect was the choice of this middle name for him!

As the days have passed, I sometimes struggle to remember this comforting feeling of Colin's middle name. For every few days that are good, they have usually been followed by not so good days. Our recent bad days have been marked by the fact that Colin has developed an infection located in his lungs. 

Even though he is in the NICU, there is no way to prevent infections from happening, no matter how diligent people wash their hands or things around him are sterilized. In his case, the infection was noticed immediately, and antibiotics were started. 

But routine illnesses are tough on the little guy. And when the first antibiotic didn't seem to be working after a day, they had to switch to a different one. The 2nd day with his infection turned out to be a tough one. His heart rate which had been holding steady after his heart surgery at 150 was shooting up as high as 200. His blood pressure was either really low, or really high. And his settings on the ventilator were constantly being adjusted, where a few days before, they were not touched at all. 

It's the hardest thing of all to watch all this going on with your child, and there is NOTHING you can do about it. Well, almost nothing. After the high of being able to hold Colin, the next day they had to switch him to another ventilator, and now I can no longer hold him for awhile. Only touch him.

So at least I found that when I place my hands on his head and legs, after a few minutes, he calms down. This gives me some peace. But otherwise, this fight is between Colin's little body and all the medical challenges he faces. 

So I try and take solace in the fact that he has a strong middle name, and that his blood is descended from a fighter. And I read this wonderful story to him called "On The Night You Were Born", and I hope that somewhere in Colin's mind I am instilling him with the will to fight all these challenges. 

But sometimes I'm reminded of the fact that I need to "fight" too. Fight the despair that takes over my days of confusion. Of trying to find order in waking up, pumping, going to the hospital, pumping, sleeping, and then starting my day again. Of seeing other mothers so happy with their children, and wondering if I will ever be that peaceful myself. 

I am told all the time that I am strong, yet most days, I feel so weak. Weak with no medical degree to understand all the medical terms that I am bombarded with each day. Weak in not knowing why my little boy has suddenly become racked with constant "seizure" like activity. Weak in not knowing how to incorporate my past life of friends, family and most importantly, me. 

Yet again, I have to remind myself that I have my grandfather's blood too. And even if I feel weak, I am still here each day. So I cry when I can, and rest just as much, and always hope that the next time I wake, that I will feel that peaceful feeling that I felt that day with the pastor. Because I want to be a 'victor', just like Colin........