Dear Mason,

 I just left you on this bus at church...along with a billion other children (OK, just 975 others -- spread out over 20ish buses, but it felt like a billion.).

I stood in the parking lot staring at the bus for a long time. I know you know this. I know you were probably just wanting me to walk away. And I finally did. I made it to the car. And would have sat there for a long time if this little girl had not urged me to drive away. Urged, ordered, encouraged! ha

And so we left. And I know that all those billion other kids have mothers who left them there too. I KNOW. So I shouldn't be sad. Or worried. Or weepy. I know!


But here's the thing. Once upon a time -- 14 years ago -- you were barely 2 pounds the day you were born. You were so tiny and your little life was pretty fragile. In those first few days, the nurses wouldn't even let me hold you and I ached to hold you. Finally, Nurse Trish came on duty and took one look at your numbers and said she wanted to teach me something. It was called "Kangaroo-care" and she took your little peanut-self and straightened all your cords connecting to the myriad of machines and handed you to me to button up in my shirt -- just like a joey in a kangaroo pouch! It was the most amazing thing -- your numbers all stabilized in the most beautiful way! She was able to decrease the oxygen you needed; your temperature regulated; your heart rate was normal! It was amazing! And so for weeks, that became our routine -- I would come to the NICU and go straight to your isolette so that we could "kangaroo". I eventually started doing it with your brother and sister, too, but they were bigger and stronger than you then, and so you were the priority.

Mason is in the middle...

Obviously, today was not the first day that I have had to "let you go" since those days in the NICU. But today was huge for you. You are going 8-hours away from home without any of us -- me, Dad, Uncle Len -- there as your safety net. Your determination to be independent in this in spite of your Cerebral Palsy and your obvious physical challenges is such a testimony to your strength of character!

You will stand on your own in Colorado and I know that you will have a wonderful time. I know you will. I know God is growing you for an amazing purpose and you are so eager to do His will that I stand in awe and admiration.

I don't wish you back to those tiny baby days, my son. I don't. But forgive me if every now and again, I wish it were within my power to protect your from any harm -- emotional, physical, or other. I am pretty sure God intends to grow me a bit this week, too.

So, I'm here. I'll be waiting to hear about every detail of this week. And I will be praying mightily for God to continue the wondrous work He began in your life the day you were born.

You are a blessing and I love you so,

Your Mama Bean