Doing the Happy Dance

I just realized that the most wonderful thing has been happening this
week.  Let me explain.  I have it on good authority, otherwise known
as the hours and hours of therapy I’ve logged, that I’m not alone in
the experience of recalling every little thing that happened between the
birth and the passing of my wee one.  Each year, between Samuel’s birthday
on August 15 and his leaving us date on September 27, I struggle with
fighting off the daily reminders about the trauma that surrounded him
on each day of his life.  For example, “this is the day they whisked
him into the PICU by taking him right out of my arms.”  “this is the
day 15 support staff members walked into his room to tell us that they
were shocked to learn that his MRI showed massive brain damage.”
“this is the day they finally allowed us to take him to hospice, and for
the first time in 4 weeks I was able to change his diaper.”
I could keep going, but I think you get the idea.


Well, this week those thoughts have not taken over my mind, not even
once.  That’s what you call progress.  Honest to goodness, hard earned
progress.  That means that I’m winning this part of the battle.  I know it’s
only been a week, and I have 5 more to go, but I’ll take victories where
I can get them.  The memories of the traumatic events that surrounded
Samuel’s days on this Earth aren’t forgotten, and you know, I never want
them to be.  They’re part of his story, our story, and a big part of what
has shaped me into the person I am today.  But I feel like doing the
happy dance now that I realized I can think of my child, especially
during this delicate time, and feel his presence in my life and the life
of our family instead of those events.1282235399058
Have a happy weekend!