Looking Back. Looking Forward.

Posted some new pics of you on the blog today. Pictures of Daddy and me holding you for the first time in two weeks. Pictures of you awake and smiling. And a silly picture of Lance that Olivia took. I decided to put that one on because it reminds me that kids are resilient and that Lance and Olivia, although they miss having Mommy and Daddy home together, they still can have fun. And it just makes me laugh.
More good news and progress today. They hope to have you out to the ICU in the next few days and maybe as soon as tomorrow. That is crazy to think about. It's hard to believe this little adventure may actually end. But I think I can see the end of the tunnel. When you move to the 10th floor, out of the ICU, you will probably only be there for a few days and then go home. So, maybe only another week of this. Crazy. Exciting. Relieving.
Doctors are still watching you and your fevers. They haven't come to a consensus on what to do, but are watching you closely. No fever today, until about 6pm. They think it might just be your body reacting and getting better.
Came out of isolation today. No more yellow gowns and masks. Hooray for that. That was a real drag. You drank some apple juice out of a sippy cup today, not much, just a little. You slept a ton. And you went for a wagon ride! It was cute. Stephanie, your nurse, set up the wagon with some blankets and pillows and then hooked you up to a portable oxygen tank and monitor and off we went. We took two laps around the ICU and you looked pretty "chill." Had one hand behind your head. Had a half grin. But a very satisfied look that's for sure. It felt a little like a Halloween parade with all the docs and nurses smiling and cheering you on. It was sweet seeing you do some more "real boy" things today.
As we get closer to going home I find myself scared. It feels a little like taking a newborn home for the first time. I am used to having your nurses here if I have any questions. I am used to just taking care of you or just taking care of the big kids. I am afraid to do both. The social worker said that it is normal for things to kind of "fall apart" when a sibling comes home from the hospital. I was dreaming that it would all be wonderful and blissful when we brought you home, but now I am envisioning more hard stuff. We can do hard stuff though, right? If we survived these past two and half weeks we can survive anything. This experience has definitely shown me what it means to survive. When we have something to live for and something to fight for, just about anything is possible. Fighting for you and for our family was an instinct, just like the quote from the last post, you never know how strong you are until you have to be. What a blessing! I hope you get something from all my ramblings. I have learned so much and don't want to forget a minute. Someone asked me the other day if I wished I could just forget some of the awful things that have happened. No. I don't want to forget a moment. Each moment, awful or amazing, showed me the power of love and the power and love of God. I need this blog to help me always remember. . .everything.

I love you, William. I love you. I love you. I love you.