The pregnancy was fraught with difficulty.
A hemorrhage in my womb early on, a bout with a gastro- intestinal infection after a trip to Haiti, and I battled adult respiratory syndrome from 6 months on. Frankly, it was a miracle this baby was born at all, let alone healthy.
During one sonogram, he flexed his biceps and I knew we had a fighter on our hands. We chose to name him after the fiercest warrior we knew of — Aaron Vaughn.
Since the day he arrived, our family has been through a lot. Each and every night after everyone else was tucked in bed, I’d snuggle my little bundle of joy and feed him a bottle. Curled up on my chest, his rhythmic breathing brought me great comfort.
In. Out. In. Out.
Because sometimes as a mom, as a wife, as someone with a fledgling non-profit trying to make a difference in our community and our country, breathing in and out was just about all I could manage to do without crying. And little Vaughn would continuously bring us such joy that it was difficult to stay focused on feeling overwhelmed without seeing and sensing the immense pleasure he brought into our lives. Many times I chose to focus on the blessing of this healthy baby than the out of my control circumstances we had been thrown.
So yesterday evening we celebrated baby Vaughn. With a simple cake and a lot of gratitude, we all gave thanks to God who gave us this blessing in the midst of many trials. This little warrior has me fighting harder than ever (especially when I have to wrestle him while changing his diaper) for the good of everything that America represents and for our family as a whole. The challenges of raising 16 children seems trivial when faced with joy like what this little man brings into our lives.