Our family reached a major milestone yesterday. We attended church for the first time as a family of four. I was so excited to get the kids dressed up, pack the diaper bag, and fall into our new Sunday routine now that Davis had clearance to attend the church nursery--until we got there.
I was worried about how he would react- he’s never been left with someone he doesn’t know, let alone in a room he’s unfamiliar with. Turns out he was a total champ. And I was the one who cried like a baby.
Literally, I had to go to the bathroom and compose myself.
It’s funny- I swear I’m still carrying around emotions from the hospital almost one full year later. I can’t seem to let them go. Part of my tears were happy tears because leaving him means that his doctor thinks he’s healed. But leaving him brought back memories of where we’ve been, doubts that we’d ever live a “normal” life or that he would get to participate in these activities, and fear about what happens if he gets sick.
I realize some of this is highly irrational and I’m quite confident my husband thinks I am crazy. I don’t completely disagree with him.
I was talking to Kristin about it and I really feel like what we went through with Davis changed me as a person. I think about the hospital all the time and I cry about it more than I’d like to admit. The fear and the desperation that I felt those 28 days made a dent on my heart and my sense of security that I sincerely cannot seem to fill.
Even though I get to look at that beautiful, thriving child every single day.
Even though I see the x-rays and tests that show he’s ok.
Even though I truly believe in my heart that he is ok.
I can’t let it go.
I hope that changes over time. Maybe I’m just grieving the loss of the part of myself that could live free of doubt and fear. Or maybe I don’t really want to forget because it reminds me to be grateful for every moment, every single day.
Either way, I’m a work in progress. At least now I can relish the small victory of my sweet boy who gets to grow up knowing what it’s like to spend his Sundays at church. For now, that’s good enough for me.
2 comments:
I don't usually comment, but I had to on this. My daughter was in the NICU and then ended up having to have surgery at 2 months after a really really difficult time at home. When she was around 6 months, I was having a really hard time emotionally about all of it. It seemed weird that I would have such a strong reaction so many months later, but the thing was that I had a fabulous healthy little girl. After going through all of that and worrying (similar to yourself!), I couldn't have really imagined a time when things were "normal." My daughter is almost a year and I feel better about what we went through. I still have leftover protective feelings as well though! I'm sure time will heal alot of what you've been through. I talked to someone else who went through something similar and it made me feel SO much better. I just wanted you to know you aren't alone.
I don't usually comment either, but I wanted to just give you a "high five" for holding it together and getting to church as a family for the first time. You must have made God smile that day - and every day that you love on your family the way you do.
Brava ~ Good job!
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