>>189622, >>189623, >>189624, >>189625, >>189626, >>189627, >>189628, >>189629, >>189630, >>189631, >>189632, >>189633, >>189634, >>189635, >>189636, >>189637, >>189638, >>189639, >>189640, >>189641
Over the last three years, I watched my daughter Mikhaila juggle my affairs and my illness, start and run Peterson Academy with her husband Jordan, launch Afterparty, a new commercial product, while preparing two more (coming soon), and initiate a formal clinical trial of a dietary intervention for autoimmune disorders—all the while, pregnant and with small children.
George is not yet three, Audrey not two, and now, in the midst of all that, Francis. And her pregnancies have not been easy: Mik's health is precarious, in consequence of her auto-immune condition, which manifested itself early in her life and took two of her joints: her left ankle and her right hip. She's managed to put into remission what the staff at the Toronto Hospital for Sick Children described as the worst case of juvenile rheumatoid arthritis they had even seen. But maintaining that requires constant attention and management.
Mikhaila has an older child, too. Elizabeth Scarlett, now nearing nine. She's an absolute delight, as healthy, well-managed children can God willing be: clowny, happy, clear-headed, playful, beautiful, social, friendly, smart and talented. George, a little clown himself, is thriving and—more miraculously—so is Audrey.
That little girl was hospitalized last year with a rare virally induced cardiac problem. It almost killed her. Mikhaila and my son-in-law JF spent weeks in the hospital with their new baby. Thank God she recovered.
None of that stopped my daughter. In the midst of catastrophe, she determined to bring forth new life: three children in the last three years. An all-consuming enterprise, which she has managed without being all consumed.
I suppose in some ways it's the most commonplace of things, although the deadly low birth rate in the West suggests otherwise. But life is the miraculous in the commonplace: there are some nine billion of us, but every one of us is unique—something that never happened before and never will again. The wise remember that every second of their lives.
And now we have Francis.
Congratulations, to Mikhaila and JF.
Congratulations, Tam, my love.
And to baby Francis Fuller: welcome to the world, terrible and wonderful as it is.
Quoted Post:
Mikhaila Peterson @MikhailaFuller - Francis Jordan Fuller!! Born July 28th at 11:14pm at home - 8lbs 1oz and 21 inches long.
After 9 days of prodromal labor, 3 days past my due date, Frankie arrived!!! 40 mins of active labor in a tub. Wow. And ouch. Serious ouch. Poor little guy came out bruised, cord around his neck, bloodshot eyes from birth. Recovery for both of us is so intense, but nothing out of the ordinary. It’s amazing how little I can remember from previous pregnancies/recoveries with them being so painful honestly, but, you forget. Being a woman is wild.
We are so in love. He’s so cute!!! So cuddly. So squishy. My last two babies were early so it’s kind of nice to have a little guy that’s a bit more resilient.
High five to my husband @jordan_m_fuller for surviving the last 41 weeks and just not being phased by anything. Very helpful and safe feeling. Love you so much, (adding Jordan as a middle name was my idea by the way and I had to push for it).
I didn’t think I’d ever like and love another person as much as I love you