There's just something about the kid that enters life in an eventful way - I once ran into a lady who must have had a premature baby at some point, because she was so right. It's not that they're your favorite, or more loved, but the fight they went through to get here always holds a special place in your heart.
She was a month old and three pounds in this photo.
Coral is four years old today. Four years ago my May baby became my February baby. We did six weeks' hard time in the NICU, holding her tiny hand through all the ups and downs of preemiedom. We brought home a tiny, four pound infant who decided to stop breathing after two nights home. Then there were the countless appointments with her pediatrician, cardiologist, opthalmologist; the prescription caffeine we swore would make her addicted to coffee in her later years; and the much-hated apnea monitor we lugged around for six months. We worried about her learning to eat, learning to sit up, learning to walk - she finally met that milestone at eighteen months. There were times we thought she'd be tiny forever.
And now we have a smart, sassy, funny, sweet spitfire in this tall, lanky kid that you'd never recognize as the preemie she was.
She definitely has a special place in our hearts.