I wrote these words back on August 10, 2010 just 4 days before the babies came home. We had just been told that Cade had bilateral vocal cord paralysis (which later turned out to be an innacurate diagnosis) and would possibly need a tracheotomy for life. I was feeling devastated by this news, when I wrote the following:
"I don't really even know what, how, or if I should hope at this point. You hear things like "false hope," "don't get your hopes up" and then also, "hope for the best" and "hold on to hope." What the heck?! What am I supposed to do? I don't want to give up hope that everything is going to turn out great, but I don't want to build up some false sense of hope when I should be working on acceptance. This is so confusing, and often times, it is just too much."
My tell-it-like-it-is sister told me quite frankly I was being very pessimistic and responded on the blog, "get your hopes up, fill your heart with love, continue to pray, and make a wish whenever you can!"
I did continue to pray despite my feelings of despair, and I continued to love my babies unconditionally. Throughout their NICU stay, I tried my best to stay strong for them. I knew they needed me to believe in them.
As I was driving today, a song came on the radio and unexpectedly I began sobbing. I mean really sobbing. It opened wounds that I thought were healing. It's like I had tried to bandage a wound needing several stitches with a tiny band-aid. This is where I would normally quote a few lines that particularly touched me, but every line in this song feels like it was pulled straight from my heart. Here's the song for those who need a good cry (have tissues ready), and be sure to click on the link at the end that tells the writer's story.