One more thing

It seems that throughout our journey this past couple of years, there have been plenty of "one more thing" moments. This time it is a definite positive. Karen, our physical therapist, has officially discharged Gabe from PT. The goals we set just about a month ago have been met. Gabe continues to amaze everyone. She evaluated him to be sure he was really ready for discharge and I signed my last physical therapy progress report. As we talked about Gabe and thought back to where we started, I think she was tearing up a little bit, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. We've been so blessed with wonderful and talented people caring for Gabriel even before he was here. Our therapists fit right in. During yesterday's session, we probably did more talking than therapy. She frequently works with Ginger, our OT, and they talk about Gabe all the time. They are both amazed at how quickly this day has come, despite the odds. This is the first DH baby she has worked with who has left First Steps. Typically they still need some therapy beyond age three. What makes it even more amazing is not only how quickly he has achieved his goals, but how quickly he did it with the size and seriousness of his defect. We talked about that too, about where we started. She asked questions about the prenatal timeline and that first week at Riley. I went back to places in my mind I don't visit too often anymore and brought up questions in my own mind I may never have voiced. There are so many unknowns about his development and what happened - both how and why. They are questions that cannot be answered and do no good to revisit, but it's human nature I think. I relayed the shock we felt that first night when we learned Gabe might not survive. I remember the compassion of everyone involved and how they patiently tried to explain the unthinkable. I also remember falling asleep with my head on his bed and then being wheeled back to my own room to get some sleep so we could come back and face a new day and whatever it might bring us. I remember the questions that swirled around in my drug-induced fog of a mind and how they bounced into the events of the day and all we were trying to process. I remember thinking about the countless ultrasounds we'd had over the past months and desperately repeating to myself, "but I saw him practice breathing, how can we be faced with this now".

We talked and relived and in the end just did what we have always done, quieted the questions and enjoyed the moment. As it was the day we were discharged from Riley, it was a bittersweet day. A proud moment tinged with some sadness that we wouldn't see this person every week anymore. Such is life. We will likely go through it again next month as Ginger thinks our next OT session will also be the last one.