Broken...

Well the hits just keep on coming, don’t they? All in all it’s pretty funny really, pretty funny and pretty sad too. I think the two things that bother me most by this setback is that I cannot hold my two Little Guys with both hands and do their cares and feel them as they grow, with both of my palms and all 10 fingers wrapped and cupped around them. That is really hard. The other thing, oddly enough, is that I am now even slower at typing than I was before, if that’s possible. So, those aside, it’s not THAT bad I guess. I keep replaying the crash in my mind and each time am so thankful that all I got was one little broken bone. It could have been SOOOOOOOOOOO much worse, and I’m not trying to state the obvious, things can always be worse. I think what I’m getting at is that I was spared; I can’t believe it was not worse. I remember flying through the air thinking, “Oh man, this is going to earn me an ambulance ride to the ER.” I did go to the ER, but fortunately it wasn’t bad enough to need an ambulance. I got to see the new house before I went to the ER, which was really nice. I am going to have surgery on Tuesday and they’ll decide then if they’re going to just put a pin or two in or if they need to put a plate and screws in. The good news about that is, barring an infection, I should heal quicker than if I was just going to be in a cast, so that’s good.

Sam & Amelia are wonderful. They are the heart and soul of our operation up here in SLC. They are growing and opening their eyes big and each day brings a new change. I cannot tell you how amazing it is to be in this club of people. Yesterday we saw our first NICU baby go home…after about 5 months!!! Our story of struggle in the NICU is barely even worthy of being mentioned amidst the number of those who have a much larger and heavier worrisome burden they bear. I certainly do not recommend running out and trying to get a membership in this club, for Heaven’s sake don’t do it, but since we are card carrying members I have to say it is awe inspiring. Not awesome like a really good purchase is awesome or a new pair of shoes, but like walking down a cancer ward and hearing the trials, travails, and victories of the patients held there. Not something to envy, yet something that strikes a chord in your soul that moves you. I mean truly awesome. I don’t know how many of these parents do it, how they hang in there. They are a source of encouragement.

I got see Sammy sans tubes all over his head. Talk about amazing and tearful. When Sam was not doing so well earlier on and I was there with him and looking at him through the Plexiglas, still raw and emotional from the whole ordeal, I thought about him dying. Trust me, that was not the only time I thought about either one of them not making it. A terrible vision ran through my mind where I was again looking down at Sam, more raw and emotional, in his tiny casket the size of a child’s shoe box and for the first time I saw him without tubes and wires, finally seeing my son the way he was intended to be. I cannot tell you how that tugged at me; how horrible that felt. I’m not sure why I wrote that here, other than to say that I got to see my son yesterday, for a brief moment, without tubes and he was very much alive and happy and just sort of hanging out looking at his dad. That too tugged at me in a very real and wonderful way. It is the small victories that we look for, and usually come unexpected, that we cherish and relish. I am glad I get to share it with you.