And They Lived Happily Ever After

In May 2009, our family was in crisis. The odds for our micropreemies were dire - 50% mortality, 90%+ morbidity - and we were asked to make care decisions that no parent imagines they'll have to make. At the time, I was desperate for information on outcomes, and, more than anything, for a story that would serve as a buttress against the fear that threatened to consume us.

This is that story. Bryce turned 14 today. He is a straight-A student in Honors classes at a respected public school. He's in improv theater, and plays the piano. He runs Cross Country for the middle school, and enjoys swimming with his friends in the pond behind our house. He is a First Class Scout, and a history buff. He is a respectful, responsible, resourceful young man any parent would be proud of.

In this blog's penultimate post, we were celebrating Bryce's average size. Today, he's taller than most fourteen-year-olds; he stands level with me, and since his feet are a full size larger, I expect to be looking up at him soon. And his health? A few months ago, Bryce had a tearing cough for weeks, and we didn't even consider taking him to a doctor. Not because this is normal for him (it's not), but because we had no fear that it was a serious risk. Considering where we started, the change is mindboggling.

This blog hadn't crossed my mind in years, and I'm not sure why it bubbled up in my consciousness now. I'm glad it did, though, because it gave me an opportunity to share this one last thought: if you are that new preemie parent - terrified, confused, wondering how you can go on - I want you to know that Bryce's prematurity plays no larger a role in his life today than most children's lack of it. It's not a short road, but with the incredible medical care available today and a little good fortune, a happy ending is attainable.

This is the end for A Twin Story, but only the beginning for Bryce.