I'm overwhelmed. Not because Ben's coming home on the vent, I'm overwhelmed because he is. I know...it's confusing. Machines don't bother me, I've been dealing with them for seven years. I can handle a ventilator and everything else that goes along with it. I'm just having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that he's not weaning off the vent like all the other times. Why now? And it was only a cold...just a cold. Unless you have experienced life with a chronically ill child, it's hard to understand. Death is something I don't like to focus on or think about, but it's real and it's my reality. I can't help but wonder if his time is close...and wondering hurts. His body seems to be tiring, that left lung is so weak. "I need you!" I whisper. He turns his head towards mine and I smile because I know that he gets it. Tomorrow we make the journey back home. Back to the arms of his daddy. Back to the slobbery kisses of his siblings. Back to the comfort of his own bed and routine. Back to a brand new kind of normal.
And then we will carry on, like we always do.