on this day last year
eight weeks old and coming home
four pounds of wonder
It's been a whirlwind day today. The computer blew up, I had a school visit to talk about Mike Stellar, we had a very early am appointment with a speech therapist. Maybe not a normal day for everyone, but on par for us.
Still, though, it's not like the whirlwind day we had on October 20th last year. Last year, I woke up super early in the morning. I couldn't sleep. I packed up a bag of food I knew I wouldn't eat and went straight to the NICU. We were pretty sure Ike-a-saurus was going to get the heave ho and be able to come home, but we didn't know for sure. We had to get the OK from the doctor, see some MRI results, make sure he passed his car seat test, etc.
Eight long weeks he'd been in the NICU. Eight long weeks of going back and forth and having to live away from my baby. Eight long weeks of the wee-er one not being able to meet her brother because she was too young to visit the NICU.
At the time, those eight weeks were long and torturous and seemingly endless. What we didn't know then was that they were training us for the future. A time when things would be even more long and torturous and endless. But for that moment, that day last year, I was in agony to get my baby home. To put together a fractured family. To get things situated and "normal". To just be home for good.
Now it's been a year. A kind of long year, actually. And we're not normal like I thought we were going to be, but that's OK.
It's better than OK.
Happy home from the NICU anniversary, little dude. You amaze us everyday.