Being a medical mom I feel like happiness and fun always have an expiration date. We have had the most amazing weekend as a family with Charlie AND Milo. Outside. Not scared of cold weather, not hiding from Covid. But still there is impending sadness and fear hanging over my shoulder that I just can’t shake. Tomorrow we will meet our surgeon, the anesthesia team, labs, and get his Covid test.
Damn. Reality has set in.
After we put Milo down tonight he began to cry shortly after. I had to go back in to settle him a couple of times and it became overwhelmingly emotional for me. Last couple of nights under one roof. Happy, “healthy”.
When Milo was in the Nicu he had never gone home. He almost “wasn’t ours”. Most of the time we needed help to hold him or permission. He was plugged in to monitors, always being observed by others.
We’ve gone home. He’s ours. But now we go back. But this time it isn’t a sleepy new born laying in a crib. It’s our sweet toothy grinned boy that loves his big sister and doggies. That waves along kindergarten drop off. The boy that spends most of his day attached to me, that loves his baby carrier. My smart boy that rushes pat a cake to the throw in the oven part. Who’s always clapping and mimicking sounds. Who caws at birds and growls back at sissy. The absolute light of my life. (Charlie too)
This will be hard. For all of us.
But, one day at a time we will put one foot in front of the other. Because we have done this before, we have survived. And we will do it again.
Love you Taylor