October 15th — Update
What a day of miracles. What a day of joy. After 191 long days, baby Theo and his family experienced a moment they’ve dreamed about since his birth — a moment that felt like freedom.
This morning, the ENT team performed Theo’s very first trach change since surgery. The stitches were removed, and the doctors gave his family the news every NICU parent longs to hear: “You’re cleared to lift all post-op protocols.”
It was a milestone that marked not just medical progress, but emotional healing too.
Shortly after, the team decided to discontinue the paralysis medication, allowing Theo to move freely for the first time since his procedure. By 11 a.m., he was “moving and grooving”, as his mom described it with joy. His oxygen needs remained steady — around 21–22%, with only a few brief dips into the 80s, which the team quickly managed.
But the most powerful part of the day wasn’t medical at all. It was deeply human.
For the first time in her son’s life, Theo’s mom got to pick him up on her own — without assistance.
“It felt SO WEIRD,” she wrote through tears. “My brain is conditioned to protect his ET tube. It felt so freeing to pick him up by myself and sit down with him.”
After 191 days of waiting, of standing beside hospital beds and monitors, of watching nurses and respiratory therapists handle what she couldn’t — she finally held her little boy freely, safely, and completely.
“I also just repositioned him in the bed by myself for the first time,” she said. “🥹”
It was a moment no parent will ever forget — a simple act that symbolized everything they’ve been fighting for.
While Theo and his mom soaked in that sacred moment, something even more beautiful unfolded. A representative from Hand to Hold, a support group for NICU parents provided by Texas Children’s Hospital (TCH), approached them.
Hand to Hold connects families who are walking through the NICU journey with mentors who have lived it themselves — parents who know the fear, the uncertainty, the prayers whispered in the quiet hum of machines. These mentors offer encouragement, empathy, and understanding that only experience can bring.
The mentor was overjoyed to see Theo in his mom’s arms — and she asked if they would like to share a bit of their journey in a short video for the upcoming Bad Pants Open golf tournament, an annual fundraiser that supports NICU families at TCH.
They agreed, and moments later, a cameraman arrived to film. As Theo’s mom held him — her eyes filled with both tears and gratitude — she spoke about their journey, about the long nights and small victories, about how far Theo had come.
During their conversation, something profound happened. The mentor shared what had inspired her to be part of Hand to Hold. Theo’s mom smiled and replied with words that perfectly captured her faith:
“Do you know what that reminds me of? It reminds me of Jesus. He came down here in the flesh to experience what it’s like to be human, and He ministered to us.”
It was, in her words, a beautiful moment.
And truly, it was. Two mothers, bonded not by circumstance but by shared grace, standing in the light of healing, holding onto hope — and holding onto Theo.
Later, as the hospital quieted and Theo rested peacefully, his mom spent time highlighting Bible verses that friends and family had shared with them the day before. Each verse — marked and underlined — would one day tell Theo the story of faith that carried his family through the darkest days.
“I can’t wait for him to read all of them when he’s older,” she said.
There’s something powerful about that image — a mother, sitting by her child’s hospital bed, coloring her Bible with promises of strength, while her son begins to rediscover movement and freedom just a few feet away.
It’s more than a medical update. It’s a story of grace meeting perseverance, of faith intertwined with medicine, of a little boy teaching the world how to keep believing.
Theo’s mom ended her update the same way she’s faced this entire journey — with gratitude:
“Today was a good day. I’m so excited. God is good! Even in the lows — because He makes the highs feel so wonderful!”
And that’s the heart of it all.
For 191 days, Theo’s family has lived in the space between fear and faith. They’ve prayed through every setback, celebrated every number on a monitor, and clung to hope that this day would come. And now, they’ve finally tasted a bit of freedom — the kind that feels like breathing for the first time.
So today, we celebrate with them — the milestones, the movement, the miracle.
We celebrate the power of community, the compassion of care teams, and the unshakable faith of a mother who never stopped believing that her little boy would one day move and groove again.
Theo’s story is still being written — but today, a new chapter began.
A chapter filled with healing, laughter, and the unshakable truth that even in the hardest seasons, God is good.
