Little Zakkari Rafi was born two months early. He probably couldn’t wait to make his mom smile and hear his brother Malakai Rei sing. Today, 4 days before Christmas, he’s still in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) and making slow progress toward full recovery.
Yesterday, mom Greis said little Zak was able to take in breastmilk for the first time — 25 days from the day he was born. It wasn’t much to feed a tender little boy like Zak, but it was a milestone for him. A few drops of milk fed to him through a tube meant a lot. The interns were delirious with joy when Zak pooped because of the milk, which was a sign that his frail body can now take in nourishment. How often do you see people glad to see poop?
Little Zak is a fighter. Much like his mom and his kuya Kai. He still cries in silence, but I have faith that he will get through all this. He will grow up as strong and as smart as his kuya. He is special. We are already proud of him.
In his early days in the PICU, I was praying to God that whatever His will may be, may it be done; that suffering and pain may be endured. I was, as always, too meek to ask Him for a favor even though I know He never turned me down before.
Today, I’ve changed my prayers for little Zak. I now know what I want for him and I am not ashamed to ask it from the Lord. I ask that Zak can come home in time for Christmas.
When Zak came out that fateful 25th of November, I told Greis that this little one wants drama. He has his own Christmas rush going on. He wants to be strong enough in time to celebrate Christmas with his family. That’s why tonight, at exactly 9pm, I will ask the same thing from the Lord. That’s exactly the same time when all the other friends and family of mommy Greis will give their own prayers as requested.
All little Zak probably wanted was to at least hear the sounds of Christmas. I want to give it to him. A prayer for life, love, and good health is all I can give him for Christmas. Christmas, after all, is for kids.
Thanks for this, Carms. Internet’s a little slow in Antipolo (as it is in Pque), but found a way to read. Could have taken all the pain, anxiety and misery out on blogs, but my days are filled with thoughts of my bunso in PICU.
Oh, and it’s Rafi Zakkari btw. š
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