"Day of Hope" celebration

One year ago today we were reunited in Landstuhl, Germany with my daughter waiting for the inevitable to occur. Citlali, her mother Norma, Jesus, her husband, and I were physically there. Family and friends were all there in spirit, praying for a miracle.

We had traveled for three hours from Grafenwhoer across the beautiful spring of Germany, but the anxiety made it hard to enjoy our surroundings. Citla was about to deliver her daughter full term, and she was told since the sixth month that the baby was not to survive. In the last trimester she did not grow, and her heart was not fully formed. We were told by the cardiologist, on the day she went into the delivery room, that "the girl is not compatible with life." I still shiver as these same words resound in my memory. She was told that she would not make it past one week, and most likely past some few hours.

Fast forward to the birth. Citla was joking around trying to make the moment light, and to her surprise she delivered the baby while she was laughing. It was a great paradox, and, even without us knowing, a prelude of things to come. She received the baby immediately after the birth. A beautiful baby that weighted at 1.5 pounds, tiny for a full term baby. That night there was a continuous struggle, and it was hard for us to see the events develop. Doctors came in in doves to see the girl with the rare condition. The cardiologist repeated that she indeed was "not compatible" and to expect the worst. Nurses rushed in and comforted my daughter. A lovely woman came at 1:00 am to take pictures of her. The tiny girl event lost some weight after the birth and came as low as 1.2 pounds. She would fit on my hand. It was a wait for the terrible end.

Except, nobody had asked the tiny girl what her opinion was.

Yes, she stopped breathing a number of times during that first night. She could not even cry, but I do not know if she was not crying because she was not able, or because she was concentrated on putting all her efforts on living. She would start breathing again after a short time.

We struggled to find diapers. We struggled to find onesies. We struggled to find any other clothes to the point that we shopped toys-r-us for doll clothes, which are not anatomically correct. Seeing the tears of my daughter in the toy store, disconsolate for not finding clothes for her daughter broke my heart. I called my wife Roxanne and she rushed some preemie clothes to us. These were big for her as well. Between her mother sewing some new clothes, and us finding micro-preemie clothes, my daughter eventually started to make do.

Audrey? She barely eat, sometimes drinking only sugar water with a dropper. But on one of her exams the cardiologist announced that her heart valves had closed properly, by themselves. There was still a need to fix some of her heart at a later time, but the prognosis was getting better.

Fast forward, this time to her first birthday celebration.

She has not reached 10 pounds and has not grown for 4 months. She still uses size 0-3 months clothes. Her birthday costume was hand made by Citla. But here she is. Living is, apparently, a big deal.

Our children go to war to give their life for their country. And they do die. In such a number that it is almost impossible to recognize the magnitude of each loss. And our leaders send airplanes and troops to kill "our enemies" with disregard for what they might be as sons and fathers. Even I felt at some times that my hard life was way too much work and wondered the real value of being alive.

This one pound of pure life thought us all the value of being alive. I now put my efforts on growing old, and to enjoy every second of every breath I take. If a one pound girl can do it, so can I.

So today, I declare this as the yearly "Day of Hope", instead of what other people call it: "Audrey's birthday."

Happy Day of Hope tiny girl!

May your body grow to the size of your spirit.

Jaime Garza
Apr 20, 2012

Tiny Girl - Welcome

photo under creative commons license, courtesy of Jenn and Tony's Bot 
at flickr. http://www.flickr.com/photos/ittybittiesforyou/

First published on Friday, March 11, 2011 
To Audrey, my tiny girl
To Citlali, my small girl from the stars

In the New World there is a man, never the same, depends who looks at him.  He is strong and weak, thin and fat, tall, but always short. You see, he never did grow so much, because if he did, little girls could not see him in the eye, and everyone could see him in the eye.

In the New World there is a chair, small and quiet, where all creatures could finally sit, one by one, or all at the same time, just for fun, but sitting they would.  Little girls get their own chairs, but they sit in the common chair all the same. Some girl, some tiny girl, smaller than the rest, would jump to climb on it, and stand on it when sitting was not enough, just to try to see the little man in the eye.

In that New World there is an orange sun, and a yellow one.  Well, there is also a blue one and a white one, but little girls like orange and yellow, and so they were those colorful suns, high above the chair.  If you look carefully at the little girls’ eyes, one sun could be seen in each of their many eyes, because you should know that little girls had as many eyes and smiles as they want.  Little girls are as beautiful as they want, and eyes and smiles are beautiful, so they have aplenty around, and they have them on any color they would ever want.  The tiny girl only had two eyes the day she came, and she just did not know where to get more smiles.

In the New World there is kicking and sucking and loving and hoping.  Little girls love and care for tiny girls, and little girls get new incoming girls their first smiles, and their first sunny eyes. The little man would look at them in the eye, or may I say, in the eyes, which is not an easy feat because those eyes are just all around, and sometimes they like to hide them just for fun.  But the tiny girl was easy.  Her eyes, and her smiles are tiny, and right there, in her face and her hands.

Tiny girl in the New World arrived not long ago in a multi-sunny day, and her smile was like a new red sun, but a tiny one.  And her two eyes were tiny, and her tiny sucking thumb, and her tiny cheeks, and her tiny little kicking feet were brown like the loving dirt of the bright New World.

Little Man, the one of the New World, the strong and weak, the fat and slim, the tall one, but always small, saw the tiny girl the day she stood in the chair, and came to see her in the eye.  Tiny girl realized that Little man was tiny, so she climbed down, found her tiny chair, in a tiny breezy lawn, and walked to it holding tiny man’s hand, and sat with him in his lap where she put her new sunny eyes and new sunny smiles.  They laughed and laughed.  They remembered the dark, and the water, and the songs from the outside, and the dancing, and above all that heart and that omnipresent hand.  They remember the dogs barking, and father, and voices, and the transparent light.  They played horse on his knees, and finally sat in calm, and sat forever talking of dirt, bronze dancers, pink princesses, shinny wedding rings, and something called sweets for the smile.

Tiny princess, and tiny King sat to wait, sat smiling, hand in hand.  He told her of stories of the New World, and of the arrival of old princesses with beautiful brown smiles, and brown eyes, and shinning beyond the suns in so called Galaxies and very far, such that they had never seen in the New World.  Tiny princess is waiting, tiny girl waits in calm, for that caring little girl with the beating heart that will bring her a new smile, the little girl with name of the Stars.

Copyright © Jaime Garza, 2011, 2012