Mark William Durst old post from 2020

This little guy turned 5 yesterday.

It’s hard to believe that five years ago he came into this world weighing just 5 pounds and blue as a smurf. The entire labor process, I knew something was wrong. I even asked Anthony to give me a blessing because his heart rate stayed around 125, which felt low to me. Then with every contraction, it would drop even lower.

When he was born unresponsive, they called a code blue and suddenly the room filled with nurses. Everyone was working on my little guy, trying to get him breathing. Anthony kept coming over to check on me, but I was completely out of it and kept telling him to go back to the baby.

Later, Anthony told me he sat down on the couch and prayed to Heavenly Father. He said, “You told me that baby would be okay. I gave Jen a blessing, and You said the baby would be okay. Please don’t make me a liar.”

As soon as he said “Amen,” one of the nurses let out a happy sigh and said, “We have a pulse.”

They let me give him a quick kiss before taking him to the NICU, where he spent the next few weeks growing stronger and healthier.

These past five years have gone by so fast.

Yesterday was one of the hardest emotional days I’ve had in a while. I cried over someone else’s loss of a child. Then I cried watching a TV show where a baby was taken away from an adoptive mom. It brought up so many feelings from my past.

When I was younger, I lived with my grandmother, who was a foster parent. More than once, I would get attached to the babies in our home, only for them to be taken away. Every single time, I would go into a small depression and grieve the loss of what felt like “my child.” Looking back now, I honestly think that may have something to do with some of my attachment issues.

This past week, while turning my old journals digital, I came across an entry from 2001 where I wrote that I wanted eight children of my own and two adopted children. Lately, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about adoption again. Of course, right now we can barely seem to pay our own bills, so it’s not realistic. But the idea of being completely done having children makes me incredibly sad.

Maybe that’s why I feel like I have to leave a little window open for the future.

And honestly… just look at this cute little guy.