It hardly seems like 5 years since you were born. I remember everything about that day so vividly. Scott was up in Philly for my dr. appt after a weekend visit. We had all gone into the city in our little rented Ford Focus from Camden, NJ where we were staying. Everyone hung out at CHOP while I had my appt at HUP next door. Levi was about 15 months old and just loved all the toys downstairs at CHOP and playing in the kids' play area on the Cardiac Unit floor. We always enjoyed our cafeteria visit where the sights and sounds were so different than what we were used to in MS. Scott and I always had a sushi roll and Levi shared a yogurt cup with Nanni. Some things never change.
It was so surprising when they told me we should have you that day. It was only my 38th week. Seems my fluid was low and they thought it best. I called your daddy and panic set in as flights were cancelled, Nanni and Levi were taken back to the Ronald McDonald House and phone calls for prayers were solicited. I waited patiently for my overnight bag to arrive and my iv to be placed.
Hours passed and epidurals were missed until you were all ready to come. I was scared you would be sick and would need immediate surgery. But you surprised us all. Daddy made phone calls while jumping in a sterile suit as they wheeled us to the delivery room. A few short minutes later, you were here. Screaming and healthy-looking and blissfully beautiful. You were so perfect.
But you're still not here. And as always, I'm sad. I could say all the usual things about how I'd much rather you be here, partying with us and going to bed in a room with your older brother. Doing all those things that new 5 year olds do. But I won't. Because I'm glad we had you for a while. And glad you live where we will one day see you again in perfect, joyful peace.