Oh my son, my son.  What have I done to you!  Throwing you out in a premature birth so tiny, so very, very tiny.  I carry the burden of a blame that is so hard to shake, so hard to reason with, so hard to believe that there really is no blame to be given.

My son, my little boy.  Fighting to breathe.  Fighting to live.  And I am fighting too.  Struggling to over come my fears ... for us all.

So little, now home in my arms.  Breathing, nursing, crying.  I relax.  You lived.  An early birth not immediately met with death.

I relax.  You sleep.  You stop breathing.  The terror, the panic, the voice of warning.  Holding you and sobbing.  Helpless, inspiration, motivation but no direction on how to save your little life ... again.

Blame ... again.  Your body is so weak because my body could not keep you longer.  No matter that there should be no blame.  No matter that the warnings I listened to actually saved your life -- twice now.

So little, now home again.  Nursing and growing so slowly.  I fight forces unseen.  I fight and I tire.  Blessings, prayer, inspiration, hope.  Faith and you grow so slow.  Fear -- you are not growing at all.  Terror -- you are dying, slowly ... again.  A race against time to overcome your allergies.  A race that is won, just in time ... again.

Blame.  How could healing have taken so long.  Needing only my milk, getting only my milk, fighting my milk.  Without my milk you would never have survived but my milk is going as another life is coming.  No blame possible.  The allergies leave, your life is saved ... again.

The pattern continues.  We rest, we battle against time and death, we witness a miracle, we rest.  Through four years and still it continues.  My son, my living miracle.  What lies ahead for you cannot even be guessed.

Another miracle arrives ... again.  Blame is erased.  It was never mine to hold and now I let it go.  Joy, thanksgiving, peace and strength for the next battle.  My son, my Ben, oh how I love you.  You teach me daily about faith, miracles and persevering.  You may not remember how you and your father and I have fought together for your life but I pray you will always remember the feel of our deep love for you.