Three years have gone by...

Today my son turned three. It seemed like just yesterday that I was being wheeled into the operating room for an emergency C-section. We almost lost him his heart rate dropped dangerously low. He was a little over three weeks premature. Which made him the smallest baby I have given birth to. He weighed 4lbs. 12oz., the doctors at first were almost certain he was well below 4lbs. Once they fluffed him up and dried him off, as they said, he looked bigger. Three days in the hospital, one day under the billy reuben light for jaundice and one car seat test later we were free to go home. Yet I always feared that something was wrong.
My first son died from cancer at 2 1/2 years old. The thought was always in the back of my head that my second son could be taken away just as suddenly. I would watch him sleep to make sure he was breathing. As he got older I would worry about the size of his head. Was it harboring a tumor that no one knew about? It was even more eery to look at him he could have been a fraternal twin to my first son. Not quite identical but close enough to run chills down your back. I catch myself calling him by the wrong name sometimes. I know he is not him but you can not help but wonder. He seems to recognize people he has never met before. While I know he can not replace my first son he has been such a blessing. Everyday he makes me smile. He is one of the most loving and helpful little boys. Quite like his brother was.
We had a scare a few months ago. It was right around the anniversary of my first son's passing. My son started to have these episodes of throwing up in the middle of the night for almost a week. It seemed to only happen during his times of sleep. I made an appointment with the doctor.
The doctor also found it strange. Things like this usually only happen when something is wrong in the brain. She recommended that we wait a few more days and if it did not get better to take him for a ct scan. My heart sank and I felt sick to my stomach. I clung to my son tighter. I could not go through that again. I knew the anxiety of not knowing would be to much to wait a few days. I insisted we go right away. The doctor agreed but said it may not be covered under my insurance if I did not wait. Did she really think that would deter me? So the next morning we found ourselves in the ct scan waiting room. The poor little guy had no idea what was going on. I told him we were going to take his picture. That was sufficient until we actually got back to the room. He would not sit still long enough so we had to strap him down. I wanted to cry he was just screaming and begging for me to let him out. I layed on his chest and rubbed his ears to try and calm him through the process. What took just minutes seemed like hours at that moment. It took five days for the results. That seemed like an eternity. All that was running through my mind was all the what ifs? What if it was a tumor? What if it was nothing? It was so close to the day I lost my first son. What are the odds that I would get such horrible news about my second son. I tried to stay busy and keep my mind off of those types of things. Finally the call came in everything was normal. The news was great yet I still felt like I had not won yet. I felt like I was running a race. Race against fate of some sort I guess. The end of that race was the age of three. I know it sounds weird but I felt like if we could get to that everything would be ok. I could breathe again. Well this morning we made it. My son blew out THREE candles. At that moment just a small weight was lifted from my shoulders. Though he is not here I feel him everyday and see him in the eyes of my other children.