Wonder-Worker

Traditionally, every time a Jew uses the bathroom, she says a blessing thanking God for creating the human body, with all its passages and orifices. If even one of these passages or openings reverses its natural course, we cannot be sustained, we cannot stand before God, says this blessing. “Blessed are You, Eternal, healer of all flesh, and worker of wonders.”

My son is a wonder!

From the moments before his birth, as I worried about his mother’s well-being as she labored and pushed him into the world, through the first days of his life, as we watched him in the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit under observation and again under a lamp to treat his jaundice, I looked at my son, praying to the God who is healer of all flesh and wonder-worker.

Thus far, our little nameless boy (until his eighth day) has been receiving attentive care and doing well on all counts, despite some scares. Though he did spend about a day in the NICU, the time there turned out to be merely a precaution. During that stay, we watched as the cardiologist examined his heart on a screen via an echocardiogram. Four chambers pumping, arteries delivering blood to all the tiny parts of this five-pound fourteen-ounce person. Wonderful. Under the blue jaundice lamp, our son squirmed and slept. When the nurse came to draw his blood to check his jaundice level, he used his muscles and his might to push away her hand! Wonderful.

It is so strange—and wonderful—to look into the eyes of this little stranger, a sojourner in this world with us. He trusts us completely and turns to us for food and for comfort and for care and for love, and we of course offer all to him freely. He is beautiful: a face just like his mother when she was a baby, a cute nose and big upper lip, a full head of dark brown hair, and magical blue eyes.

How can such a small creature motivate such big feelings? When I look into my son’s eyes, or watch him sleep, I feel how big a responsibility and how big a joy this next phase in our lives will be, as we take on the role of parents. And I have already let out the mama bear claws, refusing to compromise on his care, asking the doctors all the questions, demanding what he needs. I know I would do anything for him.

As I write this, our son is with us at home after receiving treatment for his jaundice, and as of right now, all indications are that his body is responding the way we would hope—all his passageways and organs are wondrously doing what they need to do. I will continue to pray that my son will be sustained, that all his passages and orifices will continue to function and to respond to all the efforts to improve his health as he transitions from the only environment he knew to a world where he will learn what it means to be a human being and a Jew and, we hope, a mensch.

We will welcome our son into the covenant of the Jewish people on Tuesday, surrounded by family and friends, and we will pray for his continuing development. I wonder who he will become.

How wonderful.