Tuesday, August 3, 2010


Tomorrow is the day.

I have struggled to post here for quite some time, all of the things I want to say seem to personal to share.  I've found the need to process them internally as opposed to writing them which is my usual method of sorting through my thoughts.

I've been asked so often over the past couple of months "how are you holding up?"  Well, depends on the day.

I was asked today by a dear friend "are you ready for this?"

What could I even say?

Part of me wanted to break down and tell her that I'm terrified.  I'm not ready.  I'm not ready to let him out because I know he is safe inside me.  I'm not ready to face what might come tomorrow, to turn this page to find out what the next chapter of our journey holds.  I don't want to let him go and I'm afraid that I will have to.

Part of me is strong and wanted to tell her-and remind myself-that I will be fine no matter what happens.  That I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but that I know things will workout as they need to and I will be up to the task of whatever I might be asked to do, whether that be caring for a child with extreme needs or having to let go.

I told her that I was as ready as I'll ever be, which I suppose is the truth.

Early tomorrow morning I will walk into the hospital, to a delivery room with a pass through window to the NICU with every possible life saving measure ready for our little baby.  I cling to the hope that he will cry when he is born and that I will be able to hold him before they pass him through.  I try to ignore the fear that he won't.

I am grateful for the reassuring calm that with Aaron by my side we will take this one day, one hour, one minute at a time and keep moving forward.