How do you put in words the story of a boy that had all the odds stacked against him?
How could ordinary people ever understand the bravery of a boy that faced challenges that would make grown men cry?
How strong is a mother's faith?
Read the life story of Gidion Reuben du Toit as told by his mom, Tuschka. This beautifully written book will take you on an unforgettable journey, and long after you've put it down, its powerful message will echo in your thoughts.
Gidion is a hero in every possible sense of the word. He has changed so many lives, and through this book lives on to change so many more.
"I've been asked by several people, from friends to family, acquaintances to strangers, to share Gidion's journey and his blessed life in a book. He had an immense inspirational impact on everyone that crossed his path and I owed it to him and God to share his testimonies and love, so that even when I'm gone, his legacy will remain to impart hope.
My name is Tuschka, and I was given the privilege to be a mom to the strongest and bravest little boy I know. God didn’t give him to me because I was specifically chosen for my strength or ability to handle a special needs child, or because I would be better than anyone else. He gave Gidion to me since He knew in His infinite wisdom that my life would be empty and not worth living without him. But Gidion was also a gift to many others. With his strength, his smile, and his signature “thumbs-up” Gidion had a divine calling to bring people closer to God by bringing hope to the hopeless, and light to the darkness.
From the moment of conception, my life was complete. Our souls were forever joined with an unbreakable bond of love between us. Our days were filled with incomprehensible love, competing with each other to see who had the least patience, always looking for adventures and answers to the problems we faced and me trying to give Gidion the best life he could ever ask for. Giving up was simply not an option.
This book is written from the deepest corners of my heart in brutal honesty. Emotions ranging from blissful happiness to dark rage, from divine interventions to faith that waivers. It was not written with the purpose to please the reader by only highlighting the upsides and miracles, or sugar coating the adversities. To the contrary, by opening my heart and sharing the cruel hardships we faced together with the impact it had on our lives, I believe more people would be able to relate and know that they're not alone. That they would realise they are allowed to be angry and tired, and there’s no need to be ashamed of their feelings, or fear that they would be judged. I'm convinced that when you as the reader becomes still and reflect on life, that you will see and hear my heart and connect with my soul in honesty and authenticity. Because life is not fair. Nor is it a walk in the park with only sunshine and no shadows. In reality, we live in a broken world that doesn't make sense. Where bad things happen to good people. But still we endure, because faith is all we have."
..."Gidion was also not allowed to wear any clothes in the NICU, and my whole bag with all the carefully chosen baby grows and baby items had to go right back home again until Gidion was discharged. This messed with my mind quite a bit, since all my expectations of my baby being born and taken home after 3 days, were shattered. The hospital was going to be Gidion’s first home, not his nursery that I’ve put so much effort and love in. Gidion was lying in the cot with only his preemie nappy, which was also too big, fully exposed to the cruel world and all its elements. He was on oxygen via nasal cannulas with a tube pushed down his throat to prevent him from choking on his own saliva, and drips inserted in his arm and leg, covered with gauze. He was so tiny that Cornelis could push his wedding ring right up to Gidion’s upper leg.
The following morning Dr Snyman approached us and said it was time. No words in the whole world exist that could even possibly describe a fraction of what I was experiencing. With feelings of utter helplessness, fear and despair, it seemed humanly impossible to try to find a glimmer of faith. Gidion was carefully picked up to prevent dislodging of any tubes and put on a paediatric bed to take him to the theatre. The bed was so big, with Gidion barely covering a tenth of the size. Covered, the hump the blanket made as it settled around him was pitifully slight. I was allowed to give him a kiss on the forehead, and whispered “I’m right outside my Angelchild, Mamma is waiting for you”.
A specialist paediatric surgeon, Prof Ernst Muller, was asked to perform the surgery. When I met him, all I could think of was the size of his hands. “My baby is the size of your whole hand, and you are supposed to do such fine surgery on a tiny minuscule part of his body. How are you going to manage that? With tweezers and a microscope?”, I thought.
It was the longest wait I've ever had to endure. I couldn't sit still and was walking up and down the corridor feeling nauseated and scared. The surgery plan was to turn Gidion on his side, cut him open from the front of his chest right around to the back in order to collapse his right lung. Doing that, they could get access to the blind pouch, do a primary attachment of the oesophagus to the stomach, and tie off the channel to the left lung. But there was a catch - in order to do a primary attachment, the oesophagus had to be long enough to attach to the stomach. If it was too short, it would necessitate a period of mechanical stretching over time, which would mean more surgeries."...