October 24, 2016

Yesterday, after spending the afternoon with our boy, Dan and I walked downtown to eat dinner. As we were walking back from our tasty Mexican feast, I looked around the city and I started to cry..again. But this time I was overwhelmed with gratitude and relief. My fear and anxiety has finally lifted. I can exhale. As a new parent, I didn't really know what to expect, and nothing could have prepared me for this marathon of medicine. 

This month has been as much about Louis' health as it has been about how Dan and I weather a storm in our relationship. And through the worst of it all, I love them both more every single day. As I sit here, I struggle to hold back tears; tears for what my baby has been through in his first 6 weeks of life, tears that I almost lost my son to such an unusual medical anomaly, tears for the healing we are witnessing each day, tears for the community that support us each day, tears for the shear luck that this incredible hospital is WALK-ABLE from our house, tears that I now have my whole life to get to know my son, and tears that I have found my life-long companion who will carry me through all of that. 

 Through all of this, I found it difficult to pray. I didn't know what to say exactly, "Don't you take my son before I get the chance to know him. Please. Please. Don't," was about all I could muster. I asked Father Solanus Casey (look him up) to watch over and protect my baby. I am on my knees, forever in debt to this miracle of miracles.

The nurses are bustling about and using terms like "PICU discharge," and "follow-up visits." Louis has been moved from the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit to a regular Pediatric floor. Our room is a bit more private, mostly because the nurses only come in every 4 hours instead of every 2, and they have 4-5 patients instead of 1-2. There's also a big bathroom and a fold-out couch so we can sleep here more comfortably. 

Louis' story begins with a very brave chapter. I am looking forward to a few boring adventures at home in sleep and snuggles. 

Slow and steady, baby Louis. Slow and steady.