Gabe had a well-baby visit yesterday - and everyone was not only happy to see him and his big brothers, but thrilled with his progress. The nurse asked me what therapy he was receiving and I was able to report that on Monday (the day before the appointment) we signed our official discharge papers from First Steps. There is nothing we need from the program any longer - no OT, no PT, no developmental therapy of any kind necessary. She stared at me for a second and then gave us all a big small saying, "Isn't that amazing! What a miracle boy". Couldn't argue with her on that one. She weighed him, took all of his measurements and then we waited for Dr. Voyles. When he came in, we went over the charts and discussed the percentiles. Last year, about this time we were just weaning from the tube after Gabe's nasty flu - his weight was dropping and we were struggling to keep the weight on and still be allowed to push for oral feedings and limited tube feedings...we were slipping below the 20th percentile and keeping a close eye on his diet and his weight. Yesterday he weighed in at 26 lbs - which put him at the 45th percentile!! Height was in the 55th percentile. He is right in the middle - right in the NORMAL range. What more could we ask for? We went on to discuss all of the age-appropriate milestones from speech and receptive language to climbing and eating habits! Dr. Voyles examined him then looked at me and asked, "Do you ever just forget how he started out in life?" I responded "no" but knew what he was getting at. Everything we and our team of therapists and medical professionals have worked for the past 20 months (plus more if you include maternity) has pretty much been achieved. It would be easy to forget how we started out just to look at him. If you didn't know us or Gabe and his story and we met somewhere - you would never guess what he had been through. You wouldn't even get a feeling or suspicion. He chatters and learns new words all the time, he smiles, laughs, plays and throws fits. He eats all kinds of new foods - and throws other new foods on the floor, then watches to see how quickly the dog scampers over to clean it up. He spits at the table and then laughs and spits harder when his brothers laugh at him. He loves to climb up and down the basement stairs, carries his own dirty clothes to the hamper, smiles and flirts coyly with strangers, plays peek-a-boo and bangs metal bowls with a wooden spoon. He is just like any other budding toddler. He bears the physical scars that continue to fade, but will never vanish - just as we thankfully bear all of the emotional ones. Those scars are not quite faded enough for me to say "yes, sometimes I DO forget". But I suppose the longer we function under the guise of normalcy, the more possible that may be. I don't want to look at him and think about how close we came to never knowing this little boy and the helpless anguish of those first hours, days and weeks..., but I'm not sure I want to completely forget either. It is amazing how simple and simultaneously complicated my thoughts can be at times. As we have done in the past, we will be thankful for where we are, remain vigilant and not dwell on what may yet lie ahead. Thanks again for coming along on this journey - the here and now is a wonderful place to be!