**This is the Two Cent Scoop for The Recorder Herald's Jan. 10th edition. I usually don't intermix my blog with my column in the newspaper but tonight, I thought "why not?"**

by Annette Lewis

Sometimes life throws curve balls, you believe you are on this path where you can see the future and all of a sudden it changes, you are no longer looking ahead it's as though you are going in the wrong direction. I was at the beginning stages of decorating Cooper's room, we had just found out that we were expecting a boy. His crib, changing table and dressers are all assembled and in their perfect spot thanks to Tom. But not much got accomplished, the walls are bare, the clothes are unfolded yet I am completely fine with that. 

Perspective is something people take for granted, something that requires a life changing moment to make you realize the perspective of it all. I knew pre-mature babies were born, did I know at 24 weeks that it was bare minimum and what it could entail? Not really. Cooper, now at 27 weeks, has put my own life into perspective. I had this idea of what "normal" would be, what I would feel like by the time I was "term," what my baby shower would be like, what the homecoming from the hospital would feel like - and it all changed. It all changed in a way that I am not sure I could accurately explain.

You wake up in the morning do your everyday routine and then, all of a sudden it changes; the morning, the afternoon and the night. The perspective changes on people, who you know, who you used to know and even who you are. I can admit I may have never really appreciated my husband until the day I saw him hold Cooper for the first time. As a first time mom, that moment was special to me. Tom and I haven't really processed this life changing moment, we have simply been moving in whatever direction we need to be in but once the nurse placed tiny little Cooper on Tom, it was eye opening for me. 

I am the kind of person that tends to hold on to a lot, I hate asking for help, I don't like admitting I need help nor do I want people to think I am not "okay." With all of that said, Tom knows. He has this way about him to get me to admit anything, and lately the confessions are coupled with tears but he doesn't seem to mind. But once I saw the look in Tom's face holding Cooper my perspective changed. As I think this situation is hard for me, it is equally hard for Tom. He has gone out of way to make me comfortable in the most uncomfortable position I have ever been in. 

My perspective was once surrounded around being here all the time, yet Toms doesn't get that luxury. And I call it a "luxury" because he is three hours away, I am 5 minutes away. I worry every night, I worry when I step out of the hospital room, yet Tom is home for about five days a week, I couldn't imagine that worrying. He has to hear about Cooper's breathing tubes, blood transfusions, IVs, tests, x-rays and more through telephone rather than the doctor's mouth. He works, he keeps our homestead ready for Cooper and I's homecoming on top of making sure I have what I need. Tom, is an amazing husband and I can say I have a new perspective of him, his sacrifices and his true love for not only me but our little miracle baby, Cooper. 

The miracle baby himself has gained three ounces and grown half an inch. He received his third blood transfusion over the past weekend and is doing okay. We are hoping he can grow a little bigger and get to a different breathing system since the ventilator isn't quite working out for him and he is requiring more oxygen. The doctor has been keeping a close eye on him 1) Because he is super cute 2) Because he is requiring more oxygen, something he never "needed that much" help with.  But the doctor can't "find" anything to treat, which is good, so we will just continue in the direction we are in. His PDA seems to be closed for now, which is great in itself and hopefully he will get another head ultrasound soon to just check up on his brain bleeds. Cooper is our little miracle boy.