The Day I Felt Hashem’s Embrace

Our Huge, Tiny Gift 

T. Nissim

I stroked his velvety cheek, a veil of tears clouding my eyes. Our new grandson, nine weeks premature, lay snuggled in an incubator in the hospital neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). He looks so perfect, I marveled — except for the maze of tubes and monitors connected to his tiny, four-pound body. How amazing that everything a person needs to reach full maturity is contained in such a small package!

As I kept vigil beside his crib, the walls heard my fervent tefillos, the whispers echoing in the thundering silence of his room. Rivers of hope washed over me as I davened, “zeh hakatan gadol yihiyeh,” and that he should give Hashem and his family much nachas.

And then it happened. As we watched our baby grandson’s slow but steady progress and started to dream of taking him home, the doctors and nurses told us that they were going to do a routine ultrasound on his head to check for a brain bleed, a common complication experienced by preemies.

“Even if we see a brain bleed,” they continued, “it usually resolves itself and doesn’t leave lasting damage.”