Carrie Cox’s Corner

“Let’s pray for a baby, Claira.”

“Okay Momma.”

She was two years old, and I remember bowing my head with her at night and hearing her ask God in her sweet little voice to give us a boy baby.

The Lord had given me a promise two years ago when Claira was born. The story of Claira’s birth is bitter sweet. Maybe I will tell it at all another time, but when we came home from the hospital I left behind the ability of ever birthing any more children.

How thankful I was for my sweet healthy girl, but struggling with the loss of our young family’s dreams and plans was one of the biggest challenges we had ever faced together. But the Lord was faithful, and he gave me a clear promise: he would give me more children. I held on to that promise desperately.

Years went by and we still waited. Claira grew. She filled our arms and hearts with so much joy. She was such a spunky girl. “Claira My Jo,” Pawpaw Cox would say, “How did we ever live without you?”

I don’t know how we did it either. I was so thankful for my healthy baby that I was able to bring home, but as she grew my heart began aching for another child. I prayed and hoped, and said, Lord, open the door.

And then one day, something changed. We were getting ready to move out of our first little home. It had been on the market for most of the year with out very much activity; then all of a sudden we had a cash buyer who asked if we could be out in two weeks. That was the first time I had ever moved out of a whole house before. When we got married I moved my whole room, but our whole family moving out of our house was quite a different story. Moving is hard! Claira was turning three and we decided to have a little party for her in our house, the last one in that home. It was Friday night, we had a great time at her party, but then on Saturday the moving truck showed up with the rain and the mud, and we loaded her down. We didn’t know that our life was changing forever in a lot of ways.

So we were moving out and we had friends coming to help us pack up. I remember Vonnie telling me that Alec’s mom had had another baby. I was surprised. She didn’t even really know that she was pregnant. The baby was born at 24 weeks and weighed less than 2 pounds. He was in the hospital on a lot of machines, and no one was sure if he would make it. This was the first time I had heard about our boy.

A few weeks later when we had moved in with the in-laws while we were between houses I received a phone call. This baby needed a home. She didn’t right out say it then, but she told me the situation and my heart instantly went out to this child. Was this the child we had prayed for?

But why now? We didn’t even have a home to offer him. We prayed about it and felt like the Lord had finally opened the door, so we excitedly and nervously stepped through it. We made some calls and we went to go and visit him.The first time I visited him was in January. He was on a high flow oxygen mask, a feeding tube, and a heart monitor and he was in the NICU in a clear little incubator box. He was so tiny and looked so fragile.

The nurses let me hold him. He was precious. We loved him instantly.

He continued to grow and became stronger, and we kept visiting him. We bought a home and moved in the end of January. We were working on getting a home study done so we could take him home when he was ready, but somehow the order fell through the cracks and we couldn’t move forward. The lady in charge of his case said we couldn’t visit him anymore because our homestudy hadn’t been finished, so he was there in the hospital for two months without any visitors. It broke our hearts. He needed love and physical touch. He needed a family.

Finally, CASA got involved and went to the judge, and he ordered the homestudy done the next day. One week later we were finally able to bring him home. This was on April 27th. When we brought him out in his little car seat, it was the first time since his birth in November that he had been outside of the hospital, the first time he had ever seen the sun.

We converted our dining room into a nursery/hospital room. He still was on oxygen and a heart monitor. The first night was rough. He had a hard time breathing and we stayed up all night long. The next day at his doctor’s appointment they sent us home with a breathing machine.

Our boy was subdued. He didn’t really know how to smile or interact. His eyes wouldn’t focus much, and he would become overstimulated quickly. The nurses told us that his neck was really tight and it really only turned easily to the right side, which was the side that was closest to the door in his hospital room. He would always turn that way watching the door to see if anyone would come in. Heartbreaking.

But he was in our home now and in our arms, and we were ready to love him back to health. This was the baby we prayed for. Big sister was so excited about a little boy baby. She was always ready to help and entertain. We had lots of visitors. So many people shared their love with us and with our boy. Day by day we could see his progress.

We worked so hard with our boy. He had a physical therapist coming twice a week, had multiple and frequent Dr. visits, and we took him with us everywhere we went. We were quite the spectacle at church with him and our oxygen tank, ha especially if his cord came unplugged and the alarm went off lol. I had so many people ask me every Sunday, “When is he going to get off of that thing?” I would graciously reply whenever he was ready and his lungs were stonger, but inside it bothered me. I wished they could see that there was more to him than just his physical ailments.

He was learning to smile. The first time he laughed, I think we all cried tears of joy. He was inside of there. The light was finally coming into his eyes.

It’s funny now looking back, he took months to laugh and years to talk, but now he talks more than all of us combined. He wakes up finishing his sentences from the night before. He is the life of the party!

We had one month shy of a year with our boy, but in March of 2015 things changed. He had to leave us. The day before we took a family day. Nathan got off work and we went to the zoo. It was so bittersweet. We were soaking up the moments as a family of four, but my heart was broken that it would be over soon. I have a picture of us in front of the giraffes. We are both kissing his cheeks. We were kissing him goodbye.

How in the world could this be God’s plan? He promised me a child and now I had to give him back? Oh my heart was broken beyond words. I packed his bags, his bottles, his little photo album of our life together. I made a schedule of our day, and then I had to leave him in someone else’s arms.

I didn’t see him again for several months. When we finally met up again to visit him, he had grown so much! He was even starting to try and walk. At first he didn’t really seem to recognize me, but as I was holding him I sang a little song that I used to sing to him everyday and he quickly looked back at me with knowing in his eyes. He remembered me! I couldn’t stop the tears.

After that visit I wasn’t sure if I could see him anymore. It was just so painful, but one day we got a call and they needed help. I put away my own feelings, and we said yes. His well-being was more important than my broken heart. We started a good relationship with his family. Before I knew it I was his official babysitter. I felt a bit like Moses’ mother when she had to give him up but the Lord allowed her to still raise him. He was my goodly child. Before I knew it he was back in our home and the Lord had given me my boy back, not the official way like I had thought, but in another way, and I can be honest with you, it’s been sweet.

Bubba’s story didn’t start like I wanted it to. It didn’t end like I hoped it would, but you know what, I’m not writing his story. I don’t know every detail like the author does. What I do know is that God kept his promise. He kept it his way. God did give me a child to raise, and what an honor it’s been.

Today is November 11th, and today Hunter turns 11. It’s his golden birthday. He is our golden boy. He always lights up the room. The joy and laughter and warmth he bring to our home (ha, and oh the frustration lol) cannot be described. His life and story are more precious than gold, and I am thankful today that he is our boy.