Lessons from the PICU: How my Worst Moments Resulted in the Best Gratitude
By: Amanda Clark-Rudolph
Tags: Gratitude, Self, Family, Simple Living, Parenting

Lessons from the PICU: How my Worst Moments Resulted in the Best Gratitude

The tough times taught me how the ultimate beauty lies in the mundane.

Photo by Jude Beck on Unsplash

“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.” Robert Brault

I have always prided myself on my ability to practice gratitude.

Ever since I was a child, I’ve thanked the Lord for my blessings on the majority of my days.

Still, even as someone who continuously reminds themselves of their blessings, I admit, I take so much for granted.

Due to the state of our world, I’ve been reflecting on which moments in my life have impacted my gratitude the most.

Ironically, I found the key moments in my life that truly reflected my gratefulness are also my worst.

Here’s why.

Like most parents, my kids are my world.

I write this post as my almost 3-year-old dances to a Blippi song. His long golden hair flops all about, and he grins at me with this smile representative of the ultimate happiness.

I’m grateful for all of this, and it’s hard to believe we almost lost him when he was a mere 5 weeks old due to bronchiolitis complications.

And when reflecting on memories that impact my gratitude, my head still travels to that horrible week in the PICU almost three years ago.

To put it bluntly: My now bubbly dancing boy spent a week in the PICU, and we almost lost him.

I vividly remember his tiny, frail body covered in tubes, and how, for a few days, I couldn’t even hold him.

The images resonate as if this only happened yesterday.

I remember how I prayed and confided to God that I had taken the simplest moments for granted.

Brought to my knees, I promised I would do better.

I told him all I wanted was for my family to be healthy and home again.

As my newborn son gasped for air in the hospital, I reflected on life a lot.

Oddly, I didn’t think about any extraordinary moments. Instead, I replayed a series of small moments.

Trickling memories of my family of four spending time together during the first five weeks after my youngest son’s birth.

I didn’t care about any of my accomplishments and victories. I cared most about everyday things.

As is said in Vanilla Sky, “The little things . . . there’s nothing bigger, is there?”

I thought of morning snuggles.

The sweet smell of my baby’s breath.

The four of us watching Elmo on a Saturday night.

I thought of double stroller walks.

Family dinners.

My oldest son and husband rolling play cars on the floor as I held my youngest and watched.

This series of small, mundane moments ran through my head when we didn’t know if our son would make it.

I admit, it’s now been over two years, and there are times, as an imperfect human, I still feel sorry for myself.

There are times, especially now with a worldwide pandemic going on and a nation more divided than ever, when I get sucked in by the chaos and forget about those small moments.

There are instances when the gratitude escapes me again.

But, there’s a difference: I catch myself sooner than I once did.

When I start to tumble and forget my abundance of tiny blessings…

When I catch myself going through the rabbit hole of darkness, I wise up as soon as I remember those moments in the PICU.

That’s all it takes.

Once I remember those terrifying feelings that sit raw in my skin almost three years later, the sulking ends and the gratitude overflows again.

I’ve learned that even though I have had many significant moments in my life, accomplishments I worked hard for and am proud of, nothing matters more than the series of small simplicities I’ve shared with my family.

When I think of gratitude, I think of my family of four together: healthy, happy, and strong.

It’s simple.

After almost losing my youngest son, I learned that the simple should not go underrated when it comes to gratitude -

because the series of little things hold the most meaning.