Today happens to be three months following our last post about Teo. No news has indeed been good news much to our relief and delight but I have felt some pressure to write in case you are reading. Or wondering.
I have often considered writing. And equally often, found no words. I have many many thoughts. So I am trying to find words to fill the events (or, more accurately, the daily normalcy) of the past three months. Nothing since surgery has been so traumatic as that week was! But it is hard to write about the momentous non-events since that week.
I wanted to write on October 24th when Teo turned 6 months old. It seemed a big day and worthy of writing something, anything. But we were still recovering from surgery and I thought another day would be better for writing.
I wanted to write on November 17th - on the date of the six-week end to Teo's recovery. The day passed with a whisper, no events. Not even a single appointment. No one called to say we could pick him up normally now. Nothing really seemed to change on that day - the one we'd been waiting for. I would've titled that blog "Exhaling" or "Holding our Breath" or something like that. Because, that day, for us, we realized we'd been waiting for it, waiting to see, waiting to ensure all was well. And it was. And we exhaled. And soon, although not exactly that day, we picked up Teo under his arms like you would any infant. And he was well. And we all breathed a little easier. But I thought another day would be better for writing.
I wanted to write again on November 24th when he turned 7 months old. Wow. Two things in the same week - but I hesitated.
I started to write on December 8th for no significant reason but to catch up on Teo's progress and statistics. He still had (and has) his scar but it is healing. I wasn't sure at the time if I wanted to write that he has a noticeable bump on his chest where the bones knit together but calcified. I'm still not sure I want you to know or to notice. I could've written about how sick with colds and flus we all were for about two months and how we finally felt like we'd finished with it. But it felt like I was whining (and I probably would've been!) and it seemed so petty compared to heart surgery. At the same time, Teo showed us he could tough it out with bronchiolitis and we saw progress and strength. He finally gained back his weight that had been lost during surgery and post-op but was only now in the tenth percentile. He was in the 50th percentile prior to surgery. His pediatrician said not to anticipate a return to the 50th percentile. And I wasn't sure if his growth, though steady, was interesting enough to write about. So, I didn't.
I wanted to write on Christmas Eve. Teo turned eight months that day and it was Christmas afterall - his first. Over that past month, Teo began doing so much more baby stuff - the things he maybe would have otherwise been doing at 6 or 7 months. He started to sit up on his own - and topple over with a laugh. He started laughing out loud. He took even more interest in his fingers and toes as he watched them and grabbed them - the only activity he could do while recovering and laying on his back. But now, he began rolling again - this time rolling to the right and the left and over and over. We actually experienced the typical, "hey, where's the baby" moment when he rolled so far off his blanket that we didn't see him just two feet away. He'd not done that before. It was joyous. Such simple pleasure seemed like mommy-gushing - thinking her kid is the only one in the world to ever do these things so well. So our hearts swelled and I didn't write about it.
I wanted to write on New Year's Day for the experience of another year behind and the anticipation of another year ahead - right on the verge and in so much appreciation of both. I wanted to write about recovery and hopes, of past struggles and future fears and dreams. It all seemed too sentimental and way too normal. Besides, we were planning and packing - going on a family vacation to revel in sunshine with our family and with Teo who has recovered.
I finally sat down to write today and only then realized it had been three months since the last post. There is no grand significance to today and no milestone reached. We returned two days ago from a really normal, nice, boring, warm, lazy family vacation. And throughout the vacation, Teo smiled and cooed and cried and pooed and breathed daily. Normally.
Perhaps we are finding peace with Teo being healed - normal - and I can write again.
