Miracle Mark

As oddly as it sounds, I love seeing Truitt's scar. It takes me back to that special day when his heart was healed. Healed by the gentle hands of Dr. Phillips. His tiny heart was forever changed that day. His scar, no matter how small, is a huge reminder of that moment.

Every time I see it, my mind goes back to that day. Sitting in that waiting room, not knowing God's will, but always trusting. Trusting that he himself would watch over our son. I wondered that day if Truitt truly wasn't meant to be here, that he may be taken in an instant. I kept thinking over and over again about what the surgeon had told us, a one percent chance he would bleed to death. I couldn't get those words out of my mind. Those Three hours were the longest three hours of my life. Time stood still.

I remember sitting by the window watching the world somehow move all around me. How could it be? My son is laying in a cold operating room with his heart cut open yet life is no different. To me it was frozen in time. I didn't feel anything. I patiently waited to hear the news. All I wanted was to hold him in my arms, to know he would be okay.

Thankfully, everything went as planned, and all thats left from that November day is his scar. A miracle mark that will grace his body forever, carrying with it a story of survival, strength and the precious gift of life.