Valentine’s Day in our household holds different meaning depending who you ask. My oldest son celebrates his birthday. My husband and I celebrate the
fact that we have each other, but in a way many people don’t quite understand or truly appreciate. Valentine’s day is a day of survival.
I was hospitalized for side pain three weeks prior to my pregnancy due date exactly nineteen years ago today. The events of that night are still a blur, but I woke up two weeks later still in critical condition believing my baby was dead. It was the last thing I’d heard before the natural, drug-free c-section. Some sort of viral syndrome had attacked my body, causing internal hemorrhage, kidney and liver failure and stopping my baby’s heart. They had to get him out. After four weeks, Kevin Charles Sands was sent home from the hospital on an apnea monitor minus his mom.
I remained in the hospital a full six weeks from admission as winter turned to spring and the Mardi Gras parades passed Southern Baptist Hospital in New Orleans. Through dialysis, exploratory surgery, and much prayer I pulled through the ordeal and was allowed home to get acquainted with my precious little boy. Despite the scares during his first year, Kevin had no lasting health issues.
We celebrate Valentine’s day for the usual reasons, but it has an added depth of meaning in our family.
Happy Valentine’s Day to you all!