N turned eight months old today.
I carried him to get something out of my bathroom this morning and caught our image in the mirror. I stopped for a moment to take it all in. I have a baby. He’s mine and I am his. I still hold him like a newborn rather than balancing him on my hip like an eight month old. But he’s here and he’s real.
I know this may sound strange. I think I’ve been experiencing some anticipatory grief after everything we went through in the NICU. It’s made it hard for me to be in the moment. But he’s here and he’s for real.
Now I am fighting to enjoy the little moments when all of the paperwork, phone calls, doctor appointments, and research threatens to steal it away.
At eight months he’s just over 15 pounds and still wearing six, sometimes nine, month clothes. This eighth month is a big month for him, for us. We are waiting for his neurosurgery appointment on February 14th and for the Medically Dependent Children’s Program approval any day now (seems like it’s taking forever). I’m trying to keep my expectations low and my hopes high. Regardless of the outcomes, we will be in a different place one month from now.
My book, Beauty in Broken Dreams: A Hopeful Handbook for the Early Years as a Special Needs Parent, is now available on Amazon!
Also be sure to check out my list of Favorite Books on Disability!