Few things in life (my life at least) are more powerful than love for your child. Over the past week I have watched my son teeter on the brink of the unspeakable. There were moments of body shaking fear, floods of tears, glimmers of hope, and the deepest love I have ever felt.

After several straight days of awful news I just kept thinking that my love should be able to save him. How was it that my heart could be in actual physical pain and that wasn't enough to love him out of this?

Humor sprinkled a welcomed subtle balance, as always in my life. Unwelcomed were the many test results bringing undesirable findings. However, as faces and names quickly became a trusted team of fighters for my boy the weight began to lift ever so slightly. The revolving door of doctors, respiratory therapists, nurses, and floods of other team members all rooting for our boy with visible emotion holds a comfort I am grateful for yet never want to need again.

I would stare at his face and hold his hand, listening to the rhythm of the multitude of life saving machines beeping their assurance of protection. Without fail every nurse has asked if I want the noise turned off and before they can finish the question I answer a solid and quick “no thank you”. I needed to hear the soothing sounds of those machines, in fact as he slowly improves and tubes are removed and the room quiets I fight an anxious feeling not hearing those sounds.

His strength is mighty and he radiates with courage. My son just fought a silent fight from within and is still in process of conquering this nasty beast.

Far more people than I will ever know have prayed, dedicated days, sent thoughts, and well wishes and for this my heart bursts with gratitude. Our entire family has been wrapped in arms of love in numerous joy giving ways through this time and from each and every one of us we say THANK YOU.

I do wish I could say Malachi’s journey was complete however; we still have a long road ahead of us. For this moment we will rest in today, answered prayers, and the comfort of knowing we aren’t alone in this.