When we left the NICU after Callie was born, I remember the doctor asking me if we had any questions before we left.
Questions?
Yes.
I had a bunch. I understood her medications and her breathing treatments. I understood our follow up appointments and home health nurse schedules.
But what happens when she asks why this happened?
What do I tell her when kids point to the big scar on her little chest?
How do we deal with people looking at her leg? Those looks of relief on others faces that it isn’t their child?
How do we juggle all the appointments? Therapy sessions, PT, orthopedic, cardiologist, kidney specialist?
Will she be able to do all the things other kids do?
How do we pay for all of this?
How do I deal with this guilt taking up permanent residence in my chest?
Will it get easier to breathe?
Will it always be this frightening?
What if I cant be brave for her?
I felt James’s hand squeeze mine. I felt his strong presence next to me as he smiled reassuringly at me as he told the doctor……
“I think we’ll be ok.”
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