Toby was a five pound premie. I was a twenty-four week gestation one pound, five ounces, and twelve inches long premie. Toby's mother chose life for Toby. However, she chose to give him up to be adopted. Toby was was in the N-I-C-U several weeks before he was taken to an orphanage. I was in the Intensive Care Unit exactly nine full to-the-date before I was brought home for the first time ever. My mother was advised to abort one or two of her triplets. If she had chosen one, then she would have chosen the weakest of all of her triplets. That weakest triplet was me. I was the second triplet to be born. My brother came first, and my sister came first. Sadly, my sister lived a little over a day, and my brother 4 months after we were born-he also died on our dew date. Yes, that means the weakest triplet is also the strongest triplet. I have so many stories to share about my past. Those stories will be for more blog-posts sometime in the furtive. I have always wondered why Jesus allowed my triplets to die, and let the weakest triplet to actually be the strongest of them all.
"I have had enough, LORD,"-Elijah, 1 Kings 19:4
Happy eleventh birthday, Toby! I love you so very much. Hugs and love!
