The sweetest and most important moments of my life are those that involve my boys.
While I sit in bed nursing Teddy at night, room darkened by lack of daylight, I sometimes catch myself just staring at him while I cry. Silent tears carve pathways down my cheeks and soak into my blanket. I breathe him in, his smell so intoxicating that I feel instantly calmed. I hold his small hand and remember the time in his life when ALL I could hold were his hands. When I would just spend my day staring, eyes wide like a deer standing still in the middle of a road, frozen in the moment because being present and processing the things in front of me would be too much for me to handle and my system would overloaded and shut down. How privileged am I to hold this baby in my arms now! How sweet is each breath that this boy takes! God, we are so lucky. Really. We are so very lucky.
Roman has really softened up towards me ever since coming home from the hospital. I guess absence did make his heart grow a little fonder, and the stability and routine that we now have at home has put him in a really good place. Some days I look at what a big kid he's become and I'm just washed over with sadness and complete joy at the same time. How does that even happen? I can't believe that we made this little big boy - seriously, the coolest kid I know. He really is just this smart, amazing little human that has conversations with me now and knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask. Sometimes I look at him and I love him so much that it physically hurts me. It's like I can feel my soul, the warm spot around my heart, contract because it's all so beautiful. It's all so real that it's almost surreal, if that makes sense. Am I hallucinating? Am I really stuck back in a sterile hospital bed in some cancer ward and this is all a hallucination? Did I really die when I had the tumor in my stomach and now God is making up for my short life by showing me what I would have had as a courtesy? Is this real life?
Living quietly, weekdays full of Disney movies and grilled cheese. Nicholas the Bunny and monsters at the end of books. Dinner leftovers for lunch and laundry marathons during nap time. Oh, to live! Dustin and I hold out for the weekends - it's our time, family time, the time when we feel the most whole. Having my husband and two boys around me at the same time, us doing anything at all, is like a drug to me. It fills my veins with the warmth of the sun! When I take the time to really look at what's in front of me, even with Teddy screaming and Roman running around the house in a Power Ranger outfit wielding a lightsaber and Dustin doing paper work or folding clothes, my world feels right. It's like the scene starts to slow in that moment and everything moves at a snail's pace and the specks of dust in the room around me reflect the sunlight from the front window. Lana del Ray sings a song in my head and I catch Dustin's eye just barely, and I am really THERE. And then everything bursts like a match held to an old gas stove and I have to remind myself to breathe because the view in front of me is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And it's mine. And I am happy.
And we are so lucky.