"There is no footprint so small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world." 

I have beautiful 3 year old son and I know that I should be praising God everyday of my life for blessing me with him. You see, my son was born on 25th week of gestation. To give you a better idea -- if he was born just a few days earlier he would be considered not viable, which is a fancy terms for the worst word in the world -- HOPELESS.

Ari is my hero. Having a privilege to  be with him every day of his life, seeing him fighting and overcoming every single disadvantage life threw against him. At first each breath he took was a struggle and blessing at the same time. Then it was the fears that he will not see. Then -- that he won't walk. He won't talk. He won't be "normal".

Even now, three years later, I sometimes have dreams about it. I don't think any parent that went through NICU ever gets over it. When Ari just got out from the hospital I used to jump everytime microwave stopped. Because the sound is oddly similar to heart/oxigen monitor going off and letting you know that the heart rate or oxigen levels are dangerously low.