I have a confession to make. My least favorite part of any hospital stay is the coming home part. Sounds silly, I know because I do love to be home. BUT...it's mentally, physically and emotionally exhausting getting to that point. I don't talk about it much...probably because I'm not very graceful at the whole process. Let me explain. When Ben goes into the hospital, I go into survival/adrenaline mode. Most of the time I don't let myself process what's going on because it's just too stressful. I swallow any emotions, otherwise I'd be a constant, teary mess. Add in lots of sleepless nights, making daily attempts at trying to balance both hospital and home life, advocating for Ben as needed and basically just trying to live from one minute to the next. (nevermind the fact that my enviroment IS the Intensive Care Unit...that in itself is stressful enough) So when it's finally time to go home, all of those emotions and feelings come rushing to the surface like one GIANT wave. Ben and I arrive home amidst happy/needy children that are so excited to see us. The door on Ben's van is broken which means that I have to enlist the help of all three children to help me lift Ben in his wheelchair (including his vent, suction machine and urine bag) INTO the house because I'm not strong enough to do it myself. Then there are bags and bags of our stuff that have to be unloaded into a house that is chaotic and not as clean as I usually have it. (it's not their fault...it's my ocd for cleanliness) Basically what I'm trying to help you picture is that life continues on whether I want it to or not. I have to jump in full force or get left behind. Because my two oldest had ball games today, I chose to jump in. We went to the games and I even was recruited to score the books. It was a good distraction. Had anyone asked me how I was doing...I might have melted into a puddle on the spot. I'm home again. My children are fed, the dishes are done. My house still has a ways to go, but that can wait until tomorrow. I'm thankful for forgiving children that know I need a slow transition back into home life. As I was leaving the games with Kayla...we were joking in the parking lot, even had a foot race to the van. When we got inside the van she looked at me and said..."Welcome back Mom, I sure have missed you." And then the tears came. It sure is good to be home.