my son, my hero

I haven't written much about this, or even a little, for that matter. But now it's over, we're on the other side, and my baby is smiling. And that smile is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's been a tough past several months as we prepared and geared up for Lucas' big surgery. We had months of anxiety, and panic, and just plain fear. We had weeks of build up to the big day, only to have it canceled the day before. Ear tubes were put in, and again we geared up for the big day. When it finally arrived, I was so nervous, and so on the edge, I felt unusually calm as we drove to the hospital, despite the thunderous downpour.

Lucas was filled with smiles, and as Josh walked him to the operating room, and he started to fuss because he was starting to realize how hungry he was, I felt an overwhelming weight just pushing down on me. I cried quietly until Josh returned and said he was asleep and the surgery would start soon.

In the waiting room, the seconds moved far too slowly and loudly. The minutes were endless, and the hours everlasting. After almost 5 hours Drs. D. and M. came out to talk to us. There were complications and as they spoke to us, I could barely make out their voices, and the room was spinning. My fear-induced calmness shattered and I broke down in a million little pieces. Again, we waited-for what felt like the longest seconds, minutes, and hours of my life. Once Dr. M. came back out I just wanted to hug him and never let go for saving my little boy and for saying we could go see him.

As we walked to the PICU, we were introduced to the nurses and other doctors who had fixed my baby, and each time, I felt such amazing gratitude for each and every one of them, thank yous were not enough. As we waited to go into his room, Josh reminded me to be brave and I knew that with him by my side, everything would be ok.

We walked in and Lucas was asleep, still sedated. He looked like he'd gotten into a big brawl, but his head dressing hid the worst of it. I cried softly, but I was so happy to see him, I just held his hand and thanked God for giving him light and protecting him and making him alright. I thanked all our friends and family who have been so supportive, and I thanked our doctors for the amazing work they did.

It wasn't until the next day, late in the morning, that Lucas was allowed to wake up. He was still badly swollen, and he couldn't open his eyes, but after asking if I could hold him, and nurse him, I was the happiest I've ever been as I held him in my arms and he took comfort in nursing and finally stopped crying.

The next few days went by in a blur. Every progress was amazing, and that first smile after Tuesday made my heart burst!

We were discharged on Friday afternoon. Only four days after we had arrived. On Tuesday morning, these amazing doctors had opened up my baby's head, reconstructed his skull, and by lunch time on Friday, we were driving home. He was all bruised up, and still swollen, but he was full of smiles.

As Josh said, he is a total badass--he is my son, my hero.



* Thank you from the bottom of our hearts, to all our friends, family and to the wonderful doctors who helped us get through this. We are so blessed and grateful for each and every one of you.

Share

In Memoriam: Kyra

Tonight the house is empty.

After we put the kids to bed and put down our wine glasses, the stillness hit me. Without you, the house is empty.

In my mind I see the reel and still shots of your life.

I see you, barely a few weeks old, curling up around our arms and legs. They said you were the runt of the litter, but you looked perfect to me.

I see you sleeping on top of piles of clothes inside my closet. I feel your nose touching mine and your quick lick before you bounce away looking for mischief.

I see your face so alert as you expertly maneuver to run and jump commando style and agilely snatch an entire pizza slice off my hand.

I hear your slurping as you drink your breakfast of cheerios and milk because we've run out of puppy chow.

I smell your wetness as you sprint inside shaking the rain off your coat and leaving a wet trail behind.

I see your almost wicked grin as you snap into position after having relieved yourself on the bed in a fit if jealousy.

I hear your feet crunching on the winter ground and see your face looking up at me with a snow covered snout.

I see your eyes, searching for mine, as you wander around the house, looking for the perfect spot to sleep.

I feel your tail hit my leg as you steal an entire stick of butter and run outside before I catch you-you growl at me, and before I have a chance to take it away, your swallow the entire stick of butter.

I remember all these moments, and so many more. I see them so clearly, and I can still smell your coat, and I feel the softness of the hair on your ear, which was so much softer than anywhere else.

But tonight, you are gone. Tonight the house is empty.

-Dedicated to Kyra, who passed away on April 20^th. We will miss you and love you always. This was written on the night of April 20^th but was kept private until today. I just wasn’t ready to share.

Share