the lakers won again, and ethan turned 2.
there is hope, everywhere. just two years ago, we were sitting in the hospital waiting area at the edge of our seats wondering what would happen — on the court and in the room where ethan lay. he was born with an underdeveloped heart, and we did not know if he would survive.
but he did, and you should have seen him at his birthday party saturday. he clapped hands and blew bubbles and ate cake. just like any other two-year-old. silver mylar balloons spelling out his name E-T-H-A-N hung high against the wall and i thought to myself, they should keep these so we can hang them up again next year and the year after that.
a miracle is what you want it to be. finding your car keys when you’re late for work, your favorite basketball team pulling through when you thought they were sure to lose, and one more year of sweet and precious life. i call ethan a miracle baby, because he is ours.