This weekend Leaf has been in the hospital. We originally figured she had a little cold that was setting off other issues, but our lovely little girl managed to show no virus activity from her swabs....not the first time she's done that and still been very sick, so whatever.
The thing is...this sort of experience always make me grieve for others, not so much for us.
We know Leaf will get better in a couple days. We're pretty sure we'll be able to get her trach out in the spring. She walks, she signs, even if she's not talking yet. She's still eating partly by tube, but making progress. Cognitively, she appears to be just fine.
Acorn too, improves each week. He can ride a bike (with training wheels) and write his name. He can do puzzles like a pro, which is new this month. School is going well, with a few bumps, and they believe he's quite smart, that he grasps phonics, that he might be reading some words.
But we have friends who are not blessed this way. Friends whose children will always have trachs and feeding tubes. Friends whose children will never walk or talk. Friends whose children will likely need life long care, for as long as their lives are. Friends whose children face "life limiting" conditions (the polite way of saying that they will die before their parents do). Friends whose children have been through more than twice as many surgeries as my two combined, and who still have many more to go.
It's all about perspective, and it's a complicated way of looking at the world.
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