Bringing home baby... again

Do you remember the day you left the hospital with your first born? The giddy excitement you felt at finally going home to be a family. The joy. The incredible high of gazing into that sweet face. I remember that there were twinges of fear, too. Most of them were hormonally-charged, but I was a little incredulous of the fact that the hospital was entrusting this tiny life to me; especially since I had NO idea what I was doing.

Almost one year to the day we brought Elise home for the first time, we were doing it again. This time from a different hospital, under very different circumstances. There was no joy. No excitement. No euphoric high.

Just fear.

A terrible, gut-wrenching fear. Because, once again, I was being sent out into the world, with a tiny life in my hands. And once again, I had NO idea what I was doing.

I remember vividly the panic I had, because just two hours after being discharged, Fred was on a plane to New York. Thankfully, my Mom was able to fly in, but I was all alone in that I was the only person in that house that could care for Elise. Somehow, I had managed to escape giving Elise a shot the entire time we were at the hospital, but now it was my time to step up.

Our first few weeks at home after diagnosis were eerily similar to when we brought Elise home as a newborn; learning schedules, trying to figure out her needs, lots of crying (from Mom and baby), and sleepless nights.

The only difference was, I was missing the joy. And I think it's that joy that helps you get over the complete shock of what it's like bringing home a baby for the first time. I look back and wonder how I managed to get through the first months post-dx without any joy to sustain me.

Honestly? I don't know. I think you just go on auto-pilot and do whatcha gotta do. If I could go back and talk to my post-dx self, I would tell her to find the joy where she can; in having medicine to treat your baby, in a beautiful day, in finding chocolate in the cupboard, in knowing that all the hard work, tears, sleepless nights and stress are worth it.



Because in just 2 1/2 short years, her little baby will be the most incredibly funny, smart, silly, beautiful, loving and wonderful 3 year old she could ever imagine.