It's almost inconceivable to our family that it was nearly one year ago that our son, TJ was born. After four months of severe morning sickness, I had finally started to feel like I had moved on to the "good" stage of pregnancy where I could enjoy the kicks and my growing abdomen without having to run to the bathroom to throw up every 10 minutes. On Thanksgiving Eve, I went to bed late after shopping for trimmings for our holiday meal the next day. As I tried to go to sleep, I felt the now-familiar tightening of what I had repeatedly been told by my obstetrician were Braxton-Hicks contractions. They were a little more intense than usual, but I attributed it to a long day on my feet. However, instead of quieting as they normally did, the contractions got closer and closer together and I could feel them coming around from my back in a way that they never had before. At 4 a.m. on Thanksgiving, I decided to call my doctor. I was still reasonably assured that everything was fine since I wasn't in any pain, but I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something was not right.

We arrived at the hospital at 5 a.m., where the nurses did a series of exams. They paged my doctor to come in immediately. When she arrived, she did a brief exam and informed me that my cervix had opened and my water bag was bulging into the birth canal. They would start an IV to stop the labor, but I would be on bedrest in the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy. At that moment, I was so tired from not sleeping well for the past couple of weeks that a few months on bedrest sounded appealing. I later learned that restlessness and inability to sleep even when tired in pregnancy are early signs of preterm labor. They wheeled me down the hall and started the IV, but my contractions did not stop. At about 1 p.m., my water broke. TJ was delivered by c-section at 2:09 p.m.

Even though the doctors had told us that he would only have a 50-60% chance of survival due to the fact that he was born at 25 weeks and 7 days, 1 lb., 14oz., I felt a peace that everything would work out exactly as it should. He was our most special Thanksgiving blessing ever.

TJ made remarkable progress and was extubated on his third day of life. I'll never forget his primary doctor announcing to me on that day that his chance of survival was now up to 80% and that "if he was going to die, he would have already done it." However, on day 6, just as we were relaxing and taking time to run errands, the doctors called us back to the hospital to let us know that TJ was rapidly deteriorating. The medicine they were giving him to close a duct from his heart to his lungs was not working. He was struggling for each breath because the extra blood flow to his lungs was making it difficult to keep them inflated. They had to reintubate him so that he could rest for surgery the next day. That was the first time in the entire process that I had cried in the NICU, and once the floodgates had opened, it was difficult to stop. I think every nurse and doctor on staff came to comfort me at some point in the next few hours as I tried to stifle my sniffles and be strong for the baby. Thankfully, due to so many medical advances and the talents of the cardiologist, Dr. Michael Black, TJ came through the surgery.

A few months later, we were able to bring TJ home. It was a week after his due date, but he was off oxygen and all the monitors. Our Thanksgiving surprise now weighed 5 lbs. 12oz., and was gaining by the day. Today, he weighs a little over 14 lbs. and is as much a Thanksgiving blessing as we could ever have wished for. As we look at all the progress he's made, it's difficult to imagine that just a year ago, he was so small and every day was a battle for life. We have so much more to be thankful for.

Lauren, Micheal, and TJ Sanders