I'm feeling pretty quiet and have found myself thinking more than normal about things. Reflecting more, I guess. I miss my boy kind of. I've got him here and he is wonderful, but I kind of miss the idea of him being a running, playing, talking little boy. I don't think about that much, because I love him like we have the same heart and I don't want to feel anything but joy for him and his life. But I went there a bit tonight.
I was wondering what that tuesday was like. How did it even go? It's hard to remember. The doctor told us- but then what? I cried. And then I think I shook my head a lot and said 'no- this isn't right' or something similar.
Then I remember it being night time and I was alone in Rowan's room. I sat in one chair. Then another. And nurses would come in through the night to see if I was ok. One told me I should sleep. But I was scared to sleep. I didn't want to give in to my devastation. I just wanted to figure it out. I was scared to fall asleep.
Today I'm not scared to sleep. That is a gift. He is a gift.
For one little soul to change so many others is really something. He must be here to change us... To help us.
Thank you, dear Rowan.
I think of that day a lot---and then think about how amazing and strong and brave and patient you and Steve have been. I know I can't even get a tiny glimpse of how hard this year has been, but the parts I've seen have been beautiful. Rowan is the sweetest thing. I love him. He melts this cold dead heart. Good luck this week. We love you guys.
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