As an NICU mom, I constantly have people (doctors, nurses, family members, friends etc.) tell me how incredibly strong I…

As an NICU mom, I constantly have people (doctors, nurses, family members, friends etc.) tell me how incredibly strong I am. And as I sit here at my son's bedside patting his little booty because he is exceptionally fussy today, it dawns on me. I'm not strong, I am determined. Every single day is a struggle not to break down and give up on life. But this time last year when me and my son's daddy began trying to conceive I made a commitment to loving this little boy we wanted so badly to create. I carried him and felt the wonders of him moving inside of me for 9 months of my life. And when I brought him into this world I felt a love I could never have imagined. Hearing the Dr's diagnose him with a heart defect at only 8 days old was the scariest day of my life. Signing the consent forms the evening before his open heart surgery was the most intimidating moment knowing we could possibly be sending our son to an operation that he had very little chances of making it through. Kissing him as they wheeled him into the O.R. for his surgery was by far the hardest thing I have or will ever do. But I did it for him. There was never a doubt in my mind, even knowing the possible risks, that we would give our son a chance to fight. My son is my hero. He has spent the last 9 weeks fighting every day just to survive. And every day he gets stronger. He is the reason I am committed to seeing him through this. He is the reason I wake up every single morning, come to the hospital, and go through the agony of watching my son struggle to get better. HIS strength is what keeps me going. Not mine.