With Theo, we knew that huge changes were coming, and that we would have to adapt quickly, but of course even that changed, so we need to do more, faster, than we ever could have realized. We are simultaneously very impatient for Theo to come home, and terrified at the prospect because we feel so unprepared.
I've been out of the hospital for a week now, and it is SUCH a relief. I was going nuts in there. I wasn't expecting the truckloads of hospital staff members that would inundate us with questions, schedule appointment, and follow me around everywhere. (I've had more than one person either walk me to my car or to another wing of the hospital when I told them I had to leave.) I am BEYOND thankful for the quality of care we continue to receive, but it is crazy overwhelming, especially when we're split between home and the hospital. The boys are radiating anxiety too, poor things- how do you explain to a 2-year old why you're gone at the hospital so much? I cannot wait for this phase to be over.
At the same time, trying to figure out what the new normal is... that's overwhelming too. Damien starts preschool again in a few weeks, Theo's coming home, and I'm staying home for the school year- nothing is going to settle down for quite some time. If you know me well, you know I'm missing work like CRAZY right now, so that's rough. I love my job and I'm staying connected to the school, but not teaching feels like a piece of me is missing, even though I know it's the right decision for our family for a lot of reasons. We made the decision before I went in to the hospital, so it feels like such a miracle that we were able to prepare for that beforehand instead of scrambling two days before I was supposed to report back... but one of the normalizing factors in my own life is gone.
To be clear, we have been given SO SO SO MUCH support- meals and gifts and encouragement abound. We've got a master list running of who has watched the boys, brought food, and everything else, so that we can work on thank you cards... but it's in a notebook because we literally cannot keep track of it all. What an amazing problem to have! So many friends and family members have supported us through this time of limbo, when nothing is steady or solid.
But the panic is still creeping in. It's so easy to see all of the gaps in preparation, because human brains do that and it's the worst. I still look at Paul's Camry and worry because we can't fit three carseats in it. I stress about bottles, and diapers, and preemie carseats that we don't have. I obviously worry about the hospital bills and the ongoing care that comes with a preemie. I know some worry comes with being a parent and I'll never lose it completely, so we're trying to work on seeing the positive in all of these changes. We have a sweet, wonderful, increasingly healthy baby boy. My own medical issues are improving. We are loved thoroughly by many. Our boys, while stressed, are attached to us- a huge victory for adoptive families. (I would be far more concerned if they weren't worried about us being gone.) We know that we'll figure it all out- even when it doesn't feel that way.
And, of course, the most brilliant of all the silver linings, this:
Thank you for all of your love, patience, support, and engagement in our story. When I started writing this, it was about walking through an adoption. We wanted to give quick updates and expose more people to the idea of adoption... but instead, the blog turned into something much different. We love you all!
