Next week is Aiden's third birthday, so it seems appropriate to share the testimony of his beginnings today. All of our kids have a unique story, but Aiden was our miracle baby. In more ways than one.
Our marriage had crumbled to pieces in the summer of 2005. Three weeks after Steve and I separated, the little white stick revealed our third bundle of joy was on his way. I felt God had given me a rainbow in the midst of the storm: "Hang on. I'm not finished. There is still a family here."
I knew something was wrong when I went in for my routine 20-week ultrasound and after an hour the technician wouldn't say anything. I was soon informed that Aiden (who we didn't know was Aiden yet!) had some sort of growth on his right lung and I'd need to see a specialist.
We discovered that he had a congenital cystic adenomatoid malformation (CCAM), which is a benign mass of abnormal lung tissue, in the lower lobe of his right lung. It was expected to grow at a rapid pace between weeks 20 and 28 of my pregnancy and could ultimately result in squeezing his little heart into failure.
God used this crisis to nudge Steve and I toward reconciliation. We were both in individual counseling and it became apparent that it was time to start working on our marriage. God had given us this baby and there was no reason I needed to walk the road of uncertainty alone.
We faced the possibility of in-utero surgery and talked to doctors in San Francisco and Denver about our options in case this became necessary. If we didn't have to intervene before he was delivered, his birth would potentially be traumatic and we certainly faced surgery post-delivery.
I went to the specialist twice a week for the next 8 weeks for ultrasounds and stress tests to monitor the CCAM's growth and to make sure our little buddy was hanging in there. For two of those weeks tensions ran high as the mass was growing too quickly and Aiden was developing hydrops.
God intervened. By the 28th week it appeared the CCAM had indeed stopped growing and it seemed like we were in the clear. Relief.
But two weeks later I went into pre-term labor and began to dilate. We needed to keep that baby safe and warm for at least another six weeks so his lungs would have as much time as possible to develop. I was put on bed rest and sent home to do nothing but lay flat on my back for 23 hours a day!
God had been doing a great work in our hearts toward one another. Together with our counselors, Steve and I had been praying that God would show us His perfect timing for reconciliation. It became apparent that this mommy of two preschoolers was going to need some help. And I had help. He was my husband. Steve moved home and we began the process of becoming a family again.
God is so good. With Steve by my side in the delivery room, Aiden entered the world just two weeks early, screaming like a banshee. There was much concern that his lung would not retain oxygen and that he wouldn't be able to support himself. We had a team of specialists standing by and an ambulance waiting to transport him to Children's Hospital, but the volume of his screams indicated his lungs were obviously working! It was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
He was taken to the NICU for all of two hours for a thorough checking out. There was shock and amazement among the staff as they kept trying to find something wrong. He was strong and stable. A CT scan showed that the mass was still there, but it wasn't threatening his life.
He underwent surgery to remove the bottom third of his lung when we was three months old. He sailed through beautifully and a week later we were sent home with our precious baby boy.
As God would so amazingly orchestrate, the lungs regenerate themselves for the first eight years of a child's life. Aiden was given a clean bill of health by his surgeon last summer and by the time he is in second grade, a radiologist who doesn't know what he's looking at will never know he was missing part of a vital organ!
We've always prayed about our children's names. When I first suspected I was pregnant I felt God whisper that our baby would be named Aiden. It means "fiery" and I just didn't think that was something I wanted to tag a little boy with, but "Aiden" prevailed and he has certainly lived up to his name.
He doesn't let anything get him down. He is funny, enthusiastic and passionate about life. He has been lovingly nicknamed "the reverend" because he has a heart to pray for anything and everything all the time. He teaches us so much.
I can't help but imagine that during those months, as God was uniquely knitting him together, our little fireball was aware of and impressed by the power of the Almighty, forming a special bond with his Creator. A Creator who, as is so often the case with our Mighty God, was doing much more than forming the life of a child. He was also transforming the hearts of that child's parents and restoring his family.
